Embedded Files
This marks Johnny's third season with the VAX Dragon Boat crew. His newfound love for candid photography and delicate fashion sense are just a few things that make him unique. You can read his first member's story from Season 2, 2023 here.
Johnny Yeung, 2025
Johnny Yeung, 2025
A few years ago, I was introduced to a phrase translated as “the aesthetic of desolation". In other words, if the world were to end tomorrow, would you be content with your life? How would you celebrate/face/mourn the end of the world? We live in a performative society — although a burning one. There's a certain ebb and flow you follow reflexively. You say hello and bye and text each other when you think of them and all the little acts of affection that makes the world spin. At some point you realize this is it, there is no grandiose meaning to be found, whatever your ambitions might be. The world is indifferent to our existence.
Real life is not fiction, where ambiguity is tidied up by the end for the reader's benefit and closure. There is no ending to speak of, but rather chapters of your life that you live by and carefully recite every time you meet someone new; this is who you are. It's the foundation from which you derive your worldview and values from. It defines the trajectory you expect your life to follow, however terrible or wonderful it may be. This matters, because you’re still going to stand for something even when the world is crumbling around you. So what is it gonna be? What are you going to save when the house is burning?
There is a sort of comfort that comes in realizing that life goes on even amidst the perils of your mid-twenties crisis, because nobody is going to care/notice/grieve as much as you do. There is no greater shame or joy than what you can experience for yourself. Of course, there is a kind of intimacy in being truly understood by someone. But you have to be gentle to yourself regardless. You are, after all, the center of your universe. Everything else becomes ephemeral by comparison. You have to live with those losses. You cannot divorce your grief from your past. This is what love asks of us. You would do it over and over again.
I am an anxious person. Sometimes this anxiety is all I have. I swim, even though I never learned how to, because any other action feels incomprehensible to me. A drowning person reflexively takes a breath even if it fills their lungs with water; The action does not matter as much as the intent. At times I want to be anywhere but here. But you have to fight for the things you care about. Existence, by its nature, resists definition. That's why fiction is not real life, because it cannot fully capture the contradictions within the human condition. In my desolation, the act of living is the only thing that matters.
Home has always existed in fragments, I am a mosaic of beautiful and ugly things.
I have spread my dreams at your feet, tread softly.
Perhaps this is already the end of the world.
Real life is not fiction, where ambiguity is tidied up by the end for the reader's benefit and closure. There is no ending to speak of, but rather chapters of your life that you live by and carefully recite every time you meet someone new; this is who you are. It's the foundation from which you derive your worldview and values from. It defines the trajectory you expect your life to follow, however terrible or wonderful it may be. This matters, because you’re still going to stand for something even when the world is crumbling around you. So what is it gonna be? What are you going to save when the house is burning?
There is a sort of comfort that comes in realizing that life goes on even amidst the perils of your mid-twenties crisis, because nobody is going to care/notice/grieve as much as you do. There is no greater shame or joy than what you can experience for yourself. Of course, there is a kind of intimacy in being truly understood by someone. But you have to be gentle to yourself regardless. You are, after all, the center of your universe. Everything else becomes ephemeral by comparison. You have to live with those losses. You cannot divorce your grief from your past. This is what love asks of us. You would do it over and over again.
I am an anxious person. Sometimes this anxiety is all I have. I swim, even though I never learned how to, because any other action feels incomprehensible to me. A drowning person reflexively takes a breath even if it fills their lungs with water; The action does not matter as much as the intent. At times I want to be anywhere but here. But you have to fight for the things you care about. Existence, by its nature, resists definition. That's why fiction is not real life, because it cannot fully capture the contradictions within the human condition. In my desolation, the act of living is the only thing that matters.
Home has always existed in fragments, I am a mosaic of beautiful and ugly things.
I have spread my dreams at your feet, tread softly.
Perhaps this is already the end of the world.
Leslie, also fondly known as Yushi, joined VAX in Season 2, 2023 after being encouraged by her friend Christa Zhang. A mountain climber, roller skater, and passionate dragon boater; she was celebrated for her all-around athletic aptitude with "The Greatest Athleticism" award this Season 3.
Leslie Jie, 2024
Leslie Jie, 2024
Bye, VAX Season 3
Saturday the 14th marked the final race day of the 2024 season. I was so exhausted afterward that by Monday, I could barely keep my eyes open. As much as I love dragon boating and this group of people, I’m relieved it’s over—at least until next summer. We had 5 races this year, and I attended all of them. That meant 5 days over the last 3 months where we woke up at 4 AM, drove 2 hours (thanks to all the drivers!!!), spent the whole day under the sun, and paddled through the water.
The Mercer Dragon Boat Festival took place at a stunning race site. The early morning sunlight bathed the river in orange, and mist gently rose from the surface. Volunteers were busy preparing for the day, while the dragons were still asleep.
We had four races that day: 2 200m and 2 500m. If we ranked in the top 12 out of 22 teams, we would qualify for a 2000m race. I would’ve been thrilled if we made it, but I knew we weren’t quite there yet. Our first race was at 8:03 AM—super early. We barely had time to warm up and marshal after the last car arrived at the race site.
Before the race, we paddled the boat to the start line and waited to line up. This waiting time is tough. I try to stay focused, but random thoughts often flood my mind. Sometimes, the race officials delay the start because of shifting wind or water conditions. During these moments, the boat positioning is handled by the other rows, while as a pacer, I just kept sit ready position—and getting more ready. Jess, our drummer, usually fills the silence with pep talks. “Any second now… Focus on our boat. Eyes here! Heads up! Don’t look at your toes!” I love her energy and have even considered recording her speeches as my morning alarm. This time, right before our second 200m race, the thoughts of peaches straight came to me. The juicy, crunchy kind. I’d seen a video of a peach and ham sandwich the other day and couldn’t stop wondering what that would taste like. I had to pull my mind back. Focus. Any second now.
At one point, we had to wait even longer because the dragon head on another boat fell off. Everyone was getting bored. I turned to my seatmate Kaitlyn and asked, “Why do you like dragon boating so much?” She glanced at me, “Really? Deep question now?” But she still answered.
Her answer is also my reason. As I mentioned, I liked this group of people. I felt comfortable and happy being around them. I’ve never been involved in any team sport before, and dragon boating is the pinnacle of teamwork. A dragon boat team needs a steer person, a drummer, and 20 “copy-and-paste” paddlers. All paddlers have to do is mirror each other’s movements exactly: copy, and paste. Straightforward. When I first joined, I found it was easy. But this year, Kaitlyn often yelled at me: “Leslie slow down. Leslie slow down! Leslie SLOW DOWN!!!” Leslie is trying. As a pacer, I have no one in front of me to follow, so as long as Kaitlyn and I are in sync, we’re fine. But I often rush—sometimes without realizing it. When I do catch myself, I adjust to Kaitlyn’s pace. Other times, I THOUGHT, or I FELT we were in sync. That’s when the yelling happens. Kaitlyn is like a Swiss mechanical watch—her timing is terrifyingly precise.
Even now, after a whole season, I still can’t believe I’m a pacer. At our first practice, we lined up by the boat, waiting for seat assignments. Justin came over, looked at Emily, and said, “Guess where you’re sitting.” She was assigned to one boat's pacer seat. Then he turned to me, asked the same thing, and pointed at the other boat's pacer seat. My brain exploded. Maybe being a pacer isn’t a big deal, but for me, it is. I was thrilled.
The final race at Mercer was the last race of the season. As our boat pushed off from the shore, a volunteer said “Have fun!” That’s exactly what we planned to do: enjoy the race as much as possible. And it was a great race. We were in lane 1, so I could see all the boats to our left. From the very start, we were in the lead. Jess screamed, “MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!” We gave it everything we had. I poured all my energy into 2 things: breathing and paddling. I knew the whole team was with me, and in that moment, nothing existed except the boat. I LOVE that feeling. After every race, I always feel a little bit like crying. It’s a feeling of emptiness, a faint sadness that comes when something wonderful ends. Maybe it’s similar to how one feels after giving birth.
And now, season 3 of VAX dragon boat has come to an end. But that’s alright—season 4 is ahead of us, and it’s going to be even better.
Saturday the 14th marked the final race day of the 2024 season. I was so exhausted afterward that by Monday, I could barely keep my eyes open. As much as I love dragon boating and this group of people, I’m relieved it’s over—at least until next summer. We had 5 races this year, and I attended all of them. That meant 5 days over the last 3 months where we woke up at 4 AM, drove 2 hours (thanks to all the drivers!!!), spent the whole day under the sun, and paddled through the water.
The Mercer Dragon Boat Festival took place at a stunning race site. The early morning sunlight bathed the river in orange, and mist gently rose from the surface. Volunteers were busy preparing for the day, while the dragons were still asleep.
We had four races that day: 2 200m and 2 500m. If we ranked in the top 12 out of 22 teams, we would qualify for a 2000m race. I would’ve been thrilled if we made it, but I knew we weren’t quite there yet. Our first race was at 8:03 AM—super early. We barely had time to warm up and marshal after the last car arrived at the race site.
Before the race, we paddled the boat to the start line and waited to line up. This waiting time is tough. I try to stay focused, but random thoughts often flood my mind. Sometimes, the race officials delay the start because of shifting wind or water conditions. During these moments, the boat positioning is handled by the other rows, while as a pacer, I just kept sit ready position—and getting more ready. Jess, our drummer, usually fills the silence with pep talks. “Any second now… Focus on our boat. Eyes here! Heads up! Don’t look at your toes!” I love her energy and have even considered recording her speeches as my morning alarm. This time, right before our second 200m race, the thoughts of peaches straight came to me. The juicy, crunchy kind. I’d seen a video of a peach and ham sandwich the other day and couldn’t stop wondering what that would taste like. I had to pull my mind back. Focus. Any second now.
At one point, we had to wait even longer because the dragon head on another boat fell off. Everyone was getting bored. I turned to my seatmate Kaitlyn and asked, “Why do you like dragon boating so much?” She glanced at me, “Really? Deep question now?” But she still answered.
Her answer is also my reason. As I mentioned, I liked this group of people. I felt comfortable and happy being around them. I’ve never been involved in any team sport before, and dragon boating is the pinnacle of teamwork. A dragon boat team needs a steer person, a drummer, and 20 “copy-and-paste” paddlers. All paddlers have to do is mirror each other’s movements exactly: copy, and paste. Straightforward. When I first joined, I found it was easy. But this year, Kaitlyn often yelled at me: “Leslie slow down. Leslie slow down! Leslie SLOW DOWN!!!” Leslie is trying. As a pacer, I have no one in front of me to follow, so as long as Kaitlyn and I are in sync, we’re fine. But I often rush—sometimes without realizing it. When I do catch myself, I adjust to Kaitlyn’s pace. Other times, I THOUGHT, or I FELT we were in sync. That’s when the yelling happens. Kaitlyn is like a Swiss mechanical watch—her timing is terrifyingly precise.
Even now, after a whole season, I still can’t believe I’m a pacer. At our first practice, we lined up by the boat, waiting for seat assignments. Justin came over, looked at Emily, and said, “Guess where you’re sitting.” She was assigned to one boat's pacer seat. Then he turned to me, asked the same thing, and pointed at the other boat's pacer seat. My brain exploded. Maybe being a pacer isn’t a big deal, but for me, it is. I was thrilled.
The final race at Mercer was the last race of the season. As our boat pushed off from the shore, a volunteer said “Have fun!” That’s exactly what we planned to do: enjoy the race as much as possible. And it was a great race. We were in lane 1, so I could see all the boats to our left. From the very start, we were in the lead. Jess screamed, “MORE! MORE! MORE! MORE!” We gave it everything we had. I poured all my energy into 2 things: breathing and paddling. I knew the whole team was with me, and in that moment, nothing existed except the boat. I LOVE that feeling. After every race, I always feel a little bit like crying. It’s a feeling of emptiness, a faint sadness that comes when something wonderful ends. Maybe it’s similar to how one feels after giving birth.
And now, season 3 of VAX dragon boat has come to an end. But that’s alright—season 4 is ahead of us, and it’s going to be even better.
Noel completed her second season with VAX Dragon Boat more passionate about the sport than ever before. Pictured, she's trying to beat her own previous ERG score. You can find her first member's story from Season 2, 2023 here.
Noel Wuesthoff Zheng, 2024
Noel Wuesthoff Zheng, 2024
When I first arrived in NYC back in 2020, I felt lost being in a sea of over 8 million people. However, that changed when I found VAX. They became my family, and my home. Last year I joined VAX alongside my husband, Stanley. This marked my initiation into the world of dragon boat racing. It was a season of personal growth and pushing my limits both physically and mentally.
I was filled with excitement and optimism entering this new season. It was the pilot year for VAX's premier program, and I felt privileged to be a part of it. When I earned my spot on the premier team, I was shocked because I still saw myself as that small, inexperienced athlete from the previous season who wasn’t worthy of this experience. Yet, making premier proved to me that I am capable of anything I set my mind to. It ignited a desire within me to continually improve, not only as a dragon boater but also as a mentor for newer team members, despite only having less than a year of experience.
This summer, I was prepared to push myself even further, fueled by the determination to excel and win more races.
Cooper was my first competition of the summer and one that totally ignited a new passion in me. Coming in we were the underdog team and despite having a poor performance in our first race, we were able to show that VAX Dragon Boat came to play; finishing 8th overall out of 20. Missing the A Minor Division medal by 0.01 of a second ignited an anger and desire to push myself to do better in the next races.
The Flushing race was a standout moment this season. It was our home race, so it was special to have the entire team racing and spending the day together. Despite the rain and the chaos that made it one of the more tumultuous races of the season, I felt a deeper connection with my teammates.
Next up was Hartford, which was particularly exciting for me. Last season, I wasn’t selected for the Hartford crew, so this felt like a chance to prove my capabilities for this season. As a Connecticut native, I was determined to make my home state proud. This race became one of my highlights of the year, especially because we bounced back from a rough start to finishing 3rd in the Grand Final Division.
The final race, Mercer, was undoubtedly the most competitive and my personal favorite. After filling in for Catch22's vacant seats last summer, I was eager to return as part of the first VAX crew to race at Mercer. Although we finished in the bottom half of the pool and didn’t qualify for the 2k, we demonstrated VAX’s strength. I wasn’t feeling my best and had to sit out one of the races, but I wanted to stay with my team and complete the day. Our final 500 meter race was incredibly powerful and a perfect way to conclude the season.
Season 3 taught me that it isn’t about how you start but about the growth you achieve along the way. I’m excited to see how I can continually grow as a person but how we grow as a team and become a force to be reckoned with.
I was filled with excitement and optimism entering this new season. It was the pilot year for VAX's premier program, and I felt privileged to be a part of it. When I earned my spot on the premier team, I was shocked because I still saw myself as that small, inexperienced athlete from the previous season who wasn’t worthy of this experience. Yet, making premier proved to me that I am capable of anything I set my mind to. It ignited a desire within me to continually improve, not only as a dragon boater but also as a mentor for newer team members, despite only having less than a year of experience.
This summer, I was prepared to push myself even further, fueled by the determination to excel and win more races.
Cooper was my first competition of the summer and one that totally ignited a new passion in me. Coming in we were the underdog team and despite having a poor performance in our first race, we were able to show that VAX Dragon Boat came to play; finishing 8th overall out of 20. Missing the A Minor Division medal by 0.01 of a second ignited an anger and desire to push myself to do better in the next races.
The Flushing race was a standout moment this season. It was our home race, so it was special to have the entire team racing and spending the day together. Despite the rain and the chaos that made it one of the more tumultuous races of the season, I felt a deeper connection with my teammates.
Next up was Hartford, which was particularly exciting for me. Last season, I wasn’t selected for the Hartford crew, so this felt like a chance to prove my capabilities for this season. As a Connecticut native, I was determined to make my home state proud. This race became one of my highlights of the year, especially because we bounced back from a rough start to finishing 3rd in the Grand Final Division.
The final race, Mercer, was undoubtedly the most competitive and my personal favorite. After filling in for Catch22's vacant seats last summer, I was eager to return as part of the first VAX crew to race at Mercer. Although we finished in the bottom half of the pool and didn’t qualify for the 2k, we demonstrated VAX’s strength. I wasn’t feeling my best and had to sit out one of the races, but I wanted to stay with my team and complete the day. Our final 500 meter race was incredibly powerful and a perfect way to conclude the season.
Season 3 taught me that it isn’t about how you start but about the growth you achieve along the way. I’m excited to see how I can continually grow as a person but how we grow as a team and become a force to be reckoned with.
Steven began paddling when he joined VAX in Season 2, 2023 along with his friend Andy who found the team online. He continued on to make the new premier pilot program in Season 3. Off the boat, he's also a talented volleyball player!
Steven Zeng, 2024
Steven Zeng, 2024
There is a certain concept in sociology called "the third place". It describes a specific social environment, separate from the home and the workplace, that plays a key role in building community, promoting balance, and fostering a strong sense of identity.
In my post-grad life, I have oftentimes noticed in me a desire to find this so-called third place: a place that combines the goal-oriented and performance-based values of the workplace with the authentic sanctuary of the home. While I have had some degree of success finding such a space in my other endeavors, being a part of VAX Dragon Boat has truly shown me the real value of a third place.
I had flirted with the idea of joining a dragon boat team a few years back when I was still living on the West Coast. However, skimming over the practice regimens on the team websites quickly stopped me from taking any real action. I simply didn’t see myself as the kind of person who would wake up early in the morning every weekend to do burpees, step on a boat with 21 other sweaty athletes, and then get off the boat only to do more burpees. Instead, I saw myself as an average copy-and-paste software engineer with the physique of a celery stick... and on some level, I was content with that.
A few years later when I moved to New York, my desires had somewhat shifted. I was more open to, and perhaps more comfortable with, the idea of changing myself. So when my friend sent me a link to VAX’s Facebook recruitment post, I signed up with a level of cautious optimism. Maybe I was finally ready to work towards that topmost item on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: self-actualization.
There is something about the act of moving your body in sync with 19 other individuals to accomplish a singular goal that can’t be put into words. The adrenaline rush, the physical synchronicity, and the invigorating echoes of the drummer’s commands make you feel truly alive in that moment. Something about that experience changes you, the way you see yourself, and the way that you view others. And I mean that literally. We train to keep our eyes up, to look at others on the boat as we paddle so we can keep in sync, and ultimately to avoid getting thrown off the boat by Justin (just kidding on that last part, but not really).
But maybe I mean that figuratively too. Perhaps the act of dragon boating forces you to redirect your focus away from yourself, away from your own desires and needs, and towards the needs and wants of others on and off the boat. Perhaps it forces you to develop a tolerance for discomfort in order to achieve a worthy, collective goal. And perhaps it teaches you that, no matter how hard it can get sometimes, life’s most rewarding moments can happen in the company of 21 other sticky, grimy, huffing and puffing athletes.
All I can say is, I think I’ve finally found my third place.
In my post-grad life, I have oftentimes noticed in me a desire to find this so-called third place: a place that combines the goal-oriented and performance-based values of the workplace with the authentic sanctuary of the home. While I have had some degree of success finding such a space in my other endeavors, being a part of VAX Dragon Boat has truly shown me the real value of a third place.
I had flirted with the idea of joining a dragon boat team a few years back when I was still living on the West Coast. However, skimming over the practice regimens on the team websites quickly stopped me from taking any real action. I simply didn’t see myself as the kind of person who would wake up early in the morning every weekend to do burpees, step on a boat with 21 other sweaty athletes, and then get off the boat only to do more burpees. Instead, I saw myself as an average copy-and-paste software engineer with the physique of a celery stick... and on some level, I was content with that.
A few years later when I moved to New York, my desires had somewhat shifted. I was more open to, and perhaps more comfortable with, the idea of changing myself. So when my friend sent me a link to VAX’s Facebook recruitment post, I signed up with a level of cautious optimism. Maybe I was finally ready to work towards that topmost item on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: self-actualization.
There is something about the act of moving your body in sync with 19 other individuals to accomplish a singular goal that can’t be put into words. The adrenaline rush, the physical synchronicity, and the invigorating echoes of the drummer’s commands make you feel truly alive in that moment. Something about that experience changes you, the way you see yourself, and the way that you view others. And I mean that literally. We train to keep our eyes up, to look at others on the boat as we paddle so we can keep in sync, and ultimately to avoid getting thrown off the boat by Justin (just kidding on that last part, but not really).
But maybe I mean that figuratively too. Perhaps the act of dragon boating forces you to redirect your focus away from yourself, away from your own desires and needs, and towards the needs and wants of others on and off the boat. Perhaps it forces you to develop a tolerance for discomfort in order to achieve a worthy, collective goal. And perhaps it teaches you that, no matter how hard it can get sometimes, life’s most rewarding moments can happen in the company of 21 other sticky, grimy, huffing and puffing athletes.
All I can say is, I think I’ve finally found my third place.
Tara, sporting a "@vaxdragonboat" cap (left), standing with teammates Evelyn (center) and Hannah (right) who she recorded several podcast episodes with. Tara started paddling when she tried out for VAX in Season 1, 2022. She was celebrated for her immense growth as a junior pacer in her first year with the "The Greatest Index" award. Off the water, she's also an avid runner!
Tara Shen Nolan, 2024
Tara Shen Nolan, 2024
I paddled with VAX for 2 seasons. Because of the online community that really grew during the pandemic, I was able to discover VAX and dragon boat through the available resources. I found a way to connect to my own identity, and figure out how to be an individual and part of a team too.
Joining dragon boat and especially getting to explore more of NYC with others who could act as a guide helped me feel more connected to my own self. This team provided guidance not only in a new sport but also in what it means to be Asian American, and Asian American in New York. Flushing prior to joining VAX was foreign yet always accessible. It was fear of going to an area where I am not culturally as Chinese as the rest. But in time, I learned it really makes no difference and fear shouldn’t stop you from trying something new.
For most of my athletic life (really only in the past 5 years), I have only run. It can be a group activity, but dragon boat really challenges you to understand what team effort is. I also work as a freelancer and by nature, I do not work with the same staff or same location at any time. It was refreshing to hear others' experiences and grow together as new paddlers slowly becoming skilled athletes.
There are moments in time when opportunities present themselves and at the right time. I originally found VAX through online groups in tandem with all these other groups focused on transracial adoption and adoptee voices. I had started a podcast show for Chinese adoptees in 2020 and then in 2022 met 2 other VAX teammates that were also Chinese adoptees that I wouldn’t have gotten to know if it were not for this dragon boat team! I'm now celebrating 4 years of producing this podcast.
Adoptees Born in China podcastSame China, different stories. We are the ones who found our way in a new life. Chinese adoptees stories and the stories of those lives they have become a part of. The show serves as a personal journal: both an archive and also a resource for adoptees and others.
It seems once we reach that end of a race, crossing the finish line, we are all here to embrace each experience. There are moments we are alone but ultimately, we have and can find teams to support each other on the journey of life.
Joining dragon boat and especially getting to explore more of NYC with others who could act as a guide helped me feel more connected to my own self. This team provided guidance not only in a new sport but also in what it means to be Asian American, and Asian American in New York. Flushing prior to joining VAX was foreign yet always accessible. It was fear of going to an area where I am not culturally as Chinese as the rest. But in time, I learned it really makes no difference and fear shouldn’t stop you from trying something new.
For most of my athletic life (really only in the past 5 years), I have only run. It can be a group activity, but dragon boat really challenges you to understand what team effort is. I also work as a freelancer and by nature, I do not work with the same staff or same location at any time. It was refreshing to hear others' experiences and grow together as new paddlers slowly becoming skilled athletes.
There are moments in time when opportunities present themselves and at the right time. I originally found VAX through online groups in tandem with all these other groups focused on transracial adoption and adoptee voices. I had started a podcast show for Chinese adoptees in 2020 and then in 2022 met 2 other VAX teammates that were also Chinese adoptees that I wouldn’t have gotten to know if it were not for this dragon boat team! I'm now celebrating 4 years of producing this podcast.
Adoptees Born in China podcastSame China, different stories. We are the ones who found our way in a new life. Chinese adoptees stories and the stories of those lives they have become a part of. The show serves as a personal journal: both an archive and also a resource for adoptees and others.
It seems once we reach that end of a race, crossing the finish line, we are all here to embrace each experience. There are moments we are alone but ultimately, we have and can find teams to support each other on the journey of life.
Dorian was newly introduced to dragon boating when he tried out for VAX and joined the team in Season 2, 2023. His fellow paddlers know him as the hype man and a third of the rapper trio with teammates Raymond and Noel. If you get to know Dorian well enough, he might even bust out a dance move or two!
Dorian Ramos, 2023
Dorian Ramos, 2023
I was often asked the same question: “How did you hear about the VAX Dragon Boat Team?” There was the usual assumption that I discovered it on the Subtle Asian Life Facebook group when in reality, there couldn’t have been a better marketing strategy than word of mouth. A friend of mine told me his brother was trying out for a rowing team and I, being a longtime fan of the rowing machine at the gym, knew that I had to test it myself. Showing up for tryouts, I was a little surprised when I stepped into this long boat, with what seemed like endless rows of seats. I thought I was trying out for a rowing team. As I drove the paddle into the water for the first time, the reality of what was happening sunk in. I had never tried out for a team before and I was certainly not the most athletic guy.
The first question I asked myself was how badly do I want this. Making the team meant that my weekends were now fully taken up, but I had already made the commitment. I came in with no expectations but was pleasantly surprised when people asked me if I had paddled before. As a rookie paddler who did not even know the concept of dragon boating, I’m proud to say the transition was fairly easy. Team members ranging from veterans to rookie paddlers and especially Justin and Jess played a big part in my seamless transition.
I have learned so much in these past months, about myself and about being part of something bigger than myself. Being a part of the team and participating in both Flushing and Hartford races have been incredible experiences. I am truly blessed for having a great coach that believes in me and placed me on the Alphas' boat after just a couple months of paddling. I came in with a lot of questions and here I am with even more questions now that the season is over. Solid questions about my future with VAX and my future as an amateur athlete with dreams of running a marathon. One thing I did learn was that being in the water with 20 other people on the boat meant that you needed to show up and pull your weight; because everyone else was doing it and even more.
We owe it to ourselves, to our teammates, to our coach and to our team manager, to uphold the pillars this team was built on.
The first question I asked myself was how badly do I want this. Making the team meant that my weekends were now fully taken up, but I had already made the commitment. I came in with no expectations but was pleasantly surprised when people asked me if I had paddled before. As a rookie paddler who did not even know the concept of dragon boating, I’m proud to say the transition was fairly easy. Team members ranging from veterans to rookie paddlers and especially Justin and Jess played a big part in my seamless transition.
I have learned so much in these past months, about myself and about being part of something bigger than myself. Being a part of the team and participating in both Flushing and Hartford races have been incredible experiences. I am truly blessed for having a great coach that believes in me and placed me on the Alphas' boat after just a couple months of paddling. I came in with a lot of questions and here I am with even more questions now that the season is over. Solid questions about my future with VAX and my future as an amateur athlete with dreams of running a marathon. One thing I did learn was that being in the water with 20 other people on the boat meant that you needed to show up and pull your weight; because everyone else was doing it and even more.
We owe it to ourselves, to our teammates, to our coach and to our team manager, to uphold the pillars this team was built on.
James joined VAX in Season 1, 2023 as our first steersman-in-training. A personal injury attorney, he is fondly known as the team's unofficial "chief safety officer. Beyond practicing law on and off the boat, he likes preparing homecooked meals and teaching teammates how to play Mahjong.
Henry James Man, 2023
Henry James Man, 2023
Some say that sports spectatorship is a civil religion, where hardcore supporters consecrate their favorite athletes, such as Derek Jeter, Kobe Bryant, Lionel Messi, Brett Favre, and Serena Williams, and canonize their teams’ success and achievements into scripture. Opposing teams are pilloried and their failures, certainly against our favorite teams, are readily derided. Losses are forgotten, treated as ignominy, or worse, compared to sin.
As a baseball fan, I am no stranger to this. At Yankee Stadium, I would join my fellow congregants in the navy blue colored pews praising every run scored by our team or every strikeout our pitchers would make. Between beers, supposedly the blood of Mickey Mantle, we have a proclivity of retelling stories about the late 1990s, when the New York Yankees won 4 World Series titles in 5 years, but would agree in unison, as if by commandment, that the 2004 AL Championship Series did not exist. We would demonize the Boston Red Sox, the Mets, and recently, the Houston Astros, regardless of the game’s opponent that night or the outcome. Ask Jose Altuve.
But in sports, beyond the pantheon of success and glory, there are lessons to be learned, a fact that fans often forget amid their raucous piety.
Sports are beyond achievements or individual achievements.
Sports are more than just success, but the acknowledgement of adversity.
Sports are about overcoming the self.
And in 2022, when the Yankees surged into the season with the pace to become the winningest team in modern baseball, and Aaron Judge defied reality with his home run count, I nearly lost sight of all that.
In September of that year, after having learned dragon boat steering for several months, I was competing for the first time. To steer a dragon boat means to keep the boat in its intended path, to mitigate the effects of wind or current, using a large wooden oar.
On a sunny afternoon in Long Island, with the water a crisp blue, I was about to steer my last race of the day. In a set of three races, with the first two being qualifiers, the last race was a “win or go home.” Translated in the language of sports fans, I understood that to be: “I gotta win this thing.”
My paddlers did a heck of a job the first two races. They surged ahead of the others with an unbridled passion ripping through their veins like a stormy current. I had kept my boat more or less on a straight course, but trusted that I could have done better. When the announcement came that the final race, which we qualified for, was a “win or go home” for us, I was transforming from a pious sports fan into a bona fide athlete.
Emotions rushed me with hurricane force energy. I gazed at the tent where my teammates huddled in, the space packing them as tightly as a rush hour subway train (before pandemic). This was a team of people I had practiced with, hung out with, dined with, and laughed with for three months. They had been more than teammates, but a second family, especially one led by a couple who jokingly refer to themselves as “mom and dad” of the team. “Win or go home” became a personal mandate: I had to steer ourselves into winning the final race.
As I walked up the docks for a third time, the wooden planks yawned and sighed as other teams returned: some in glory, some exhausted. The mounting pressure that I put on myself did not abate as the tired teams came back onto shore, even as I tried to reassure myself with a tune, or by steering into position to begin the race. And then the horn blew.
As an incarnation of a mythical creature, the twenty paddlers on our boat wrestled the water in rhythmic unison with their paddles. From head to toe, drummer in the front to steerer in the back, this “dragon” had one soul: the determination to win together. If I had the ability to face them, I would have seen twenty determined faces. Sure enough, the paddlers on my boat paddled with that collective mindset, as they propelled out of our start position, as though a piston was fired.
All went well, until I blew it. I lost control. I could not control the boat and allowed it to drift out of position to the left, coming dangerously close to the boat on the left. Frantically, to avert disaster, I overcompensated by steering to the right. The boat ended up going too far to the right. It all came about as a blur to me, until we drifted away from the course itself. I blew it. Hard. I became Mariano Rivera of the 2001 World Series (or Matt Ryan during the Super Bowl for football fans). I “choked.”
When we finally returned to shore, I trailed behind along the docks, plodding over its wooden boards in a walk of shame. I could not believe what happened. Neither did the teammates who I had just let down. I could not face them, even when they tried to console me or tried to defend me in front of the race officials.
Moments later, as I stared blankly and wondered what happened, the team’s other boat marched out to shore. Less than one minute after the horn sounded, they charged downwater and beat the next boat by at least half a boat’s length, apparently having been motivated to win even more after witnessing my predicament. Without a doubt, they were the rightful possessors of gold, a marked improvement over the previous year’s silver. I shared their glory, but as a witness, no different from my spectatorship of a certain baseball team in the Bronx, only eclipsed by my failure, something I, as a spectator, would find unacceptable.
My mistake continued to play in my head in the ensuing days. I became despondent, ashamed of what happened. I withdrew from my teammates, the coach, the manager, and even myself, in penance. I understood about “chokes” from watching sports, but had not ever, on the big stage, flop on epic proportions. At one point, I thought about hanging up my boating shoes: unable to continue any further under the burden of my flaw.
But failure is what makes an athlete.
Athletes thrive, but also fail. We cannot define success without first defining failure. And athletes, like other humans, from Achilles to Matt Ryan, are prone to mistakes, some more fatal than others. It is from the humility of having failed are we able to recollect ourselves from the ashes and rebuild into someone and something stronger.
True, I cost the team. But by focusing solely on MY failure, I had overlooked the achievements of MY PADDLERS who paddled like an unleashed demon (or dragon). I had overlooked that MY TEAM went to advocate and defend for me, a litigator, in a classic game of role reversal. I had overlooked that MY TEAM, in the companion boat, was turbocharged to win to make up for what happened, and defied all the odds. And what a disservice to the coach and manager it would have been for me to call it quits then, just because I could not resolve a question of my game-time EQ. This is not about ME. This is about dragon boating, where every summer we all turn the mythological dragon into corporeal reality.
That final race was one of pride immediately and certainly not when measured in terms of results. It was instead a humbling experience that I could not find as a sports fan, where success is premised upon concrete results. Instead, I have come to derive pride by understanding success in a different way, one premised on adversity and how one (or one’s team) overcomes that. And regardless of what happened, VAX Dragon Boat has been successful in growing together to overcome hardship together.
Over the next few months, I became clairvoyant about returning to the sport. I had gotten over my “choke job,” even poking fun of the incident as self-medicated mental anesthesia, if you will. I returned this year, picking up the steering oar where I left off in September. At each practice in 2023, it has been a constant pattern of making improvements and exploring new techniques and simulating different race situations. But returning to the sport this season is not about atoning for my mistake at the Port Jefferson race, rather it is about truly embracing what it means to be an athlete, to wit, a “VAXthlete,” going beyond the self for a better purpose.
And it’s okay to mess up.
You don’t have to be like Aaron Judge, Naomi Osaka, Patrick Mahomes, Stephen Curry.
You don’t have to be great.
Just do your part. Just be you.
But know you are on a team. Know that your team has your back.
Just learn from your mistakes and keep looking forward.
And “take it away.”
As a baseball fan, I am no stranger to this. At Yankee Stadium, I would join my fellow congregants in the navy blue colored pews praising every run scored by our team or every strikeout our pitchers would make. Between beers, supposedly the blood of Mickey Mantle, we have a proclivity of retelling stories about the late 1990s, when the New York Yankees won 4 World Series titles in 5 years, but would agree in unison, as if by commandment, that the 2004 AL Championship Series did not exist. We would demonize the Boston Red Sox, the Mets, and recently, the Houston Astros, regardless of the game’s opponent that night or the outcome. Ask Jose Altuve.
But in sports, beyond the pantheon of success and glory, there are lessons to be learned, a fact that fans often forget amid their raucous piety.
Sports are beyond achievements or individual achievements.
Sports are more than just success, but the acknowledgement of adversity.
Sports are about overcoming the self.
And in 2022, when the Yankees surged into the season with the pace to become the winningest team in modern baseball, and Aaron Judge defied reality with his home run count, I nearly lost sight of all that.
In September of that year, after having learned dragon boat steering for several months, I was competing for the first time. To steer a dragon boat means to keep the boat in its intended path, to mitigate the effects of wind or current, using a large wooden oar.
On a sunny afternoon in Long Island, with the water a crisp blue, I was about to steer my last race of the day. In a set of three races, with the first two being qualifiers, the last race was a “win or go home.” Translated in the language of sports fans, I understood that to be: “I gotta win this thing.”
My paddlers did a heck of a job the first two races. They surged ahead of the others with an unbridled passion ripping through their veins like a stormy current. I had kept my boat more or less on a straight course, but trusted that I could have done better. When the announcement came that the final race, which we qualified for, was a “win or go home” for us, I was transforming from a pious sports fan into a bona fide athlete.
Emotions rushed me with hurricane force energy. I gazed at the tent where my teammates huddled in, the space packing them as tightly as a rush hour subway train (before pandemic). This was a team of people I had practiced with, hung out with, dined with, and laughed with for three months. They had been more than teammates, but a second family, especially one led by a couple who jokingly refer to themselves as “mom and dad” of the team. “Win or go home” became a personal mandate: I had to steer ourselves into winning the final race.
As I walked up the docks for a third time, the wooden planks yawned and sighed as other teams returned: some in glory, some exhausted. The mounting pressure that I put on myself did not abate as the tired teams came back onto shore, even as I tried to reassure myself with a tune, or by steering into position to begin the race. And then the horn blew.
As an incarnation of a mythical creature, the twenty paddlers on our boat wrestled the water in rhythmic unison with their paddles. From head to toe, drummer in the front to steerer in the back, this “dragon” had one soul: the determination to win together. If I had the ability to face them, I would have seen twenty determined faces. Sure enough, the paddlers on my boat paddled with that collective mindset, as they propelled out of our start position, as though a piston was fired.
All went well, until I blew it. I lost control. I could not control the boat and allowed it to drift out of position to the left, coming dangerously close to the boat on the left. Frantically, to avert disaster, I overcompensated by steering to the right. The boat ended up going too far to the right. It all came about as a blur to me, until we drifted away from the course itself. I blew it. Hard. I became Mariano Rivera of the 2001 World Series (or Matt Ryan during the Super Bowl for football fans). I “choked.”
When we finally returned to shore, I trailed behind along the docks, plodding over its wooden boards in a walk of shame. I could not believe what happened. Neither did the teammates who I had just let down. I could not face them, even when they tried to console me or tried to defend me in front of the race officials.
Moments later, as I stared blankly and wondered what happened, the team’s other boat marched out to shore. Less than one minute after the horn sounded, they charged downwater and beat the next boat by at least half a boat’s length, apparently having been motivated to win even more after witnessing my predicament. Without a doubt, they were the rightful possessors of gold, a marked improvement over the previous year’s silver. I shared their glory, but as a witness, no different from my spectatorship of a certain baseball team in the Bronx, only eclipsed by my failure, something I, as a spectator, would find unacceptable.
My mistake continued to play in my head in the ensuing days. I became despondent, ashamed of what happened. I withdrew from my teammates, the coach, the manager, and even myself, in penance. I understood about “chokes” from watching sports, but had not ever, on the big stage, flop on epic proportions. At one point, I thought about hanging up my boating shoes: unable to continue any further under the burden of my flaw.
But failure is what makes an athlete.
Athletes thrive, but also fail. We cannot define success without first defining failure. And athletes, like other humans, from Achilles to Matt Ryan, are prone to mistakes, some more fatal than others. It is from the humility of having failed are we able to recollect ourselves from the ashes and rebuild into someone and something stronger.
True, I cost the team. But by focusing solely on MY failure, I had overlooked the achievements of MY PADDLERS who paddled like an unleashed demon (or dragon). I had overlooked that MY TEAM went to advocate and defend for me, a litigator, in a classic game of role reversal. I had overlooked that MY TEAM, in the companion boat, was turbocharged to win to make up for what happened, and defied all the odds. And what a disservice to the coach and manager it would have been for me to call it quits then, just because I could not resolve a question of my game-time EQ. This is not about ME. This is about dragon boating, where every summer we all turn the mythological dragon into corporeal reality.
That final race was one of pride immediately and certainly not when measured in terms of results. It was instead a humbling experience that I could not find as a sports fan, where success is premised upon concrete results. Instead, I have come to derive pride by understanding success in a different way, one premised on adversity and how one (or one’s team) overcomes that. And regardless of what happened, VAX Dragon Boat has been successful in growing together to overcome hardship together.
Over the next few months, I became clairvoyant about returning to the sport. I had gotten over my “choke job,” even poking fun of the incident as self-medicated mental anesthesia, if you will. I returned this year, picking up the steering oar where I left off in September. At each practice in 2023, it has been a constant pattern of making improvements and exploring new techniques and simulating different race situations. But returning to the sport this season is not about atoning for my mistake at the Port Jefferson race, rather it is about truly embracing what it means to be an athlete, to wit, a “VAXthlete,” going beyond the self for a better purpose.
And it’s okay to mess up.
You don’t have to be like Aaron Judge, Naomi Osaka, Patrick Mahomes, Stephen Curry.
You don’t have to be great.
Just do your part. Just be you.
But know you are on a team. Know that your team has your back.
Just learn from your mistakes and keep looking forward.
And “take it away.”
Andrew, avid fencer, joined VAX in Season 2, 2023 as a new paddler. Outside of hanging out with his teammates, he's a public school educator and a Hollyhock Fellow at Stanford University.
Andrew Wang, 2023
Andrew Wang, 2023
In 2019 I graduated from Hunter College with a combined BA and MA in Biochemistry and Adolescent Chemistry. I juggled academics with fencing. Being a member of the Hunter College Fencing Team for 4 years developed my skills in discipline, organization, drive, balance, and the importance of health and fitness.
I've always enjoyed the outdoors and had been interested in dragon boating for a while. This year the opportunity to join a dragon boat team opened up through a recruitment post in the Subtle Asian Life FB Group. I was ecstatic to join.
Dragon boating is giving me a new set of skills while helping me to stay fit in NYC. It’s given me a new team to workout with on a regular basis, and coaches that have challenged me to push beyond the limits that I reach when training on my own. Learning to synchronize and complement others is fine-tuning my sense of movements around me.
The icing on the cake of being a VAX paddler is the family I have gained. The team goes out to lunch after practices, and we hang together outside of practices at backyard BBQs and house parties. This family is a fun group of people that genuinely care for each other. VAX is a nice slice of life, where we balance work and fun! I am thankful for the coaches and the team members. Let’s go VAX!
I've always enjoyed the outdoors and had been interested in dragon boating for a while. This year the opportunity to join a dragon boat team opened up through a recruitment post in the Subtle Asian Life FB Group. I was ecstatic to join.
Dragon boating is giving me a new set of skills while helping me to stay fit in NYC. It’s given me a new team to workout with on a regular basis, and coaches that have challenged me to push beyond the limits that I reach when training on my own. Learning to synchronize and complement others is fine-tuning my sense of movements around me.
The icing on the cake of being a VAX paddler is the family I have gained. The team goes out to lunch after practices, and we hang together outside of practices at backyard BBQs and house parties. This family is a fun group of people that genuinely care for each other. VAX is a nice slice of life, where we balance work and fun! I am thankful for the coaches and the team members. Let’s go VAX!
Noel joined VAX in Season 2, 2023 with her husband Stanley. Besides being a new paddler, she's also a proud newlywed and dog mom, a Fulbright Events coordinator at the Institute of International Education, and a pop choir singer.
Noel Wuesthoff Zheng, 2023
Noel Wuesthoff Zheng, 2023
Growing up, I was always the short, scrawny kid who was never coordinated enough to play sports. The closest thing I ever came to being on a sports team was the high school and college marching band. Needless to say, never in a million years did I think I would be athletic enough to join a dragon boat team.
As a Korean-Adoptee, I never really felt close to my Asian heritage, which has always been something I’ve longed for. When I lived in Boston, I remember going to their dragon boat festival and enjoying watching the races while being immersed in something so deeply rooted in Asian Culture. I remember walking away from that festival, thinking that dragon boat racing was something I really wanted to try. Not only to push myself physically but to explore more of Asian culture.
Fast forward to when I saw Jess’s post in the Subtle Asian Life FB group, and I thought that it would be a perfect opportunity to try something new, stay fit, and be a part of a team. But in my head, I felt like I would never be good enough. My husband and teammate, Stanley and I took a leap of faith and went to one of VAX’s off-season workouts. I remember thinking to myself, “What did I get myself into?” but knowing that this was something I was going to pursue. I loved that although it was a challenging workout, there was a fun atmosphere.
Joining VAX has been one of the best decisions that I’ve made, and it has quickly become one of the highlights of my week. Being out on the water helps me escape from the mundaneness of work and life. When I am sitting at my desk in the office, I'm always thinking about how I can’t wait to get my ass kicked at practice and do something as part of something bigger than myself.
Although I would not consider myself an athlete, VAX has pushed me both mentally and physically. Being on this team has taught me a lot about persevering through tough times, even when I am so sore from PPP or getting drenched by rain at practice. I always try to push myself, knowing that I joined a team and someone is always counting on me. I’m especially thankful for all the veterans who have helped me so much, even though I can imagine it can be really tough at times teaching someone new how to paddle. I’m thankful for their patience and guidance with this learning curve.
Being a part of VAX has shown me that even a short, scrawny kid can be an athlete with mental perseverance and toughness. Take a chance on doing something new because you’ll never know how it might change your life.
As a Korean-Adoptee, I never really felt close to my Asian heritage, which has always been something I’ve longed for. When I lived in Boston, I remember going to their dragon boat festival and enjoying watching the races while being immersed in something so deeply rooted in Asian Culture. I remember walking away from that festival, thinking that dragon boat racing was something I really wanted to try. Not only to push myself physically but to explore more of Asian culture.
Fast forward to when I saw Jess’s post in the Subtle Asian Life FB group, and I thought that it would be a perfect opportunity to try something new, stay fit, and be a part of a team. But in my head, I felt like I would never be good enough. My husband and teammate, Stanley and I took a leap of faith and went to one of VAX’s off-season workouts. I remember thinking to myself, “What did I get myself into?” but knowing that this was something I was going to pursue. I loved that although it was a challenging workout, there was a fun atmosphere.
Joining VAX has been one of the best decisions that I’ve made, and it has quickly become one of the highlights of my week. Being out on the water helps me escape from the mundaneness of work and life. When I am sitting at my desk in the office, I'm always thinking about how I can’t wait to get my ass kicked at practice and do something as part of something bigger than myself.
Although I would not consider myself an athlete, VAX has pushed me both mentally and physically. Being on this team has taught me a lot about persevering through tough times, even when I am so sore from PPP or getting drenched by rain at practice. I always try to push myself, knowing that I joined a team and someone is always counting on me. I’m especially thankful for all the veterans who have helped me so much, even though I can imagine it can be really tough at times teaching someone new how to paddle. I’m thankful for their patience and guidance with this learning curve.
Being a part of VAX has shown me that even a short, scrawny kid can be an athlete with mental perseverance and toughness. Take a chance on doing something new because you’ll never know how it might change your life.
Combat sports enthusiast Alex joined the Season 0 pilot in 2021 as a first-time paddler. He is a moderator of the Facebook group Subtle Asian Life NYC, where many of his fellow teammates initially learned about VAX Dragon Boat.
Alexander Bae, 2023
Alexander Bae, 2023
Year Three
Spring 2021: “Hm. Dragon boat? Okay why not, let’s try it.”
It was a decision made on a whim; I had no idea what to expect other than the fact that it involved boats… and a supposed dragon. But what was there to lose? At worst, it was a temporary reprieve from my usual hobbies.
Almost immediately after seeing the Facebook post advertising the formation of the VAX Dragon Boat team, I reached out to the team manager to express my interest.
I’ve always been involved in some physical activity. As a child, I was very vested in taekwondo, and in high school, I played on the school’s handball team as one of the doubles starters. Boxing was my activity of choice in undergrad. And as an adult, I currently train as a brown belt in judo, and a purple belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. It goes without saying that I’m drawn to sports, particularly combat sports.
But there was something about dragon boat that lured me in. The appeal of being on a team had a certain spark, or je ne sais quoi to it. Yes, I had a partner on the high school handball team who I played alongside, but my competitive nature oftentimes prevented teamwork, and cost us matches. I was determined to not make the same mistake this time.
I’d like to think that my second foray into a team-based sport, as an adult, has yielded more positive results this time. And throughout the three years I’ve been on the team, I’ve seen myself, and others, grow and flourish under the guidance of Coach Justin and Manager Jess.
Season 0 was the proof of concept that a fledgling team could take flight in a sport dominated by established and funded teams, and that I could work in tandem with 19 other individuals.
Season 1, for all its tumultuous events, ended with a gold, and the satisfying feeling of vindication in avenging a razor-thin loss in Season 0.
Season 2, while still ongoing at the time of this post, reminds me of a passing of a torch story in some ways. Life beckons at times, and while I cannot be there for one of the races, I feel confident knowing that the newcomers have improved drastically in their first years under the guidance and leadership of the veterans.
Season 3? Well, that remains to be seen, but I’m excited to see what the future holds for VAX.
Spring 2021: “Hm. Dragon boat? Okay why not, let’s try it.”
It was a decision made on a whim; I had no idea what to expect other than the fact that it involved boats… and a supposed dragon. But what was there to lose? At worst, it was a temporary reprieve from my usual hobbies.
Almost immediately after seeing the Facebook post advertising the formation of the VAX Dragon Boat team, I reached out to the team manager to express my interest.
I’ve always been involved in some physical activity. As a child, I was very vested in taekwondo, and in high school, I played on the school’s handball team as one of the doubles starters. Boxing was my activity of choice in undergrad. And as an adult, I currently train as a brown belt in judo, and a purple belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. It goes without saying that I’m drawn to sports, particularly combat sports.
But there was something about dragon boat that lured me in. The appeal of being on a team had a certain spark, or je ne sais quoi to it. Yes, I had a partner on the high school handball team who I played alongside, but my competitive nature oftentimes prevented teamwork, and cost us matches. I was determined to not make the same mistake this time.
I’d like to think that my second foray into a team-based sport, as an adult, has yielded more positive results this time. And throughout the three years I’ve been on the team, I’ve seen myself, and others, grow and flourish under the guidance of Coach Justin and Manager Jess.
Season 0 was the proof of concept that a fledgling team could take flight in a sport dominated by established and funded teams, and that I could work in tandem with 19 other individuals.
Season 1, for all its tumultuous events, ended with a gold, and the satisfying feeling of vindication in avenging a razor-thin loss in Season 0.
Season 2, while still ongoing at the time of this post, reminds me of a passing of a torch story in some ways. Life beckons at times, and while I cannot be there for one of the races, I feel confident knowing that the newcomers have improved drastically in their first years under the guidance and leadership of the veterans.
Season 3? Well, that remains to be seen, but I’m excited to see what the future holds for VAX.
Emily, former varsity fencing captain, joined VAX Dragon Boat in Season 2, 2023 as a new paddler after learning about dragon boat from fellow member Simon Zhang.
Emily Wu, 2023
Emily Wu, 2023
This is my first season ever dragon boating and I’m very happy I made the decision to join the team. I tore my ACL years ago but due to circumstances outside my control and prioritization decisions, I’ve never gotten back even close to 100%. It’s been an ongoing struggle mentally and physically. The combination of an old injury and not working out consistently for years has led to constant injury management of small fallout injuries. There’s a regular internal struggle of a desire to go 100%, feel the bliss of being in the zone, and ignore the voice of reason in my head telling me another injury is around the corner if I do. More recently, in trying to prioritize what makes me happy, and knowing that sports is one of the few things that truly gets me excited and happy – what dragon boat means to me is another try to get through injury.
I love team sports – having done lacrosse and fencing for years in the past – team mentality and giving it all is part of my nature. Team sports helped shaped who I am today. It’s intoxicating to be a part of it all again. Balancing my competitive nature and team spirit with not overextending is tough though. I truly appreciate Coach Justin and my friend Simon (who convinced me to join) for helping me maintain the balance. So far it’s adding a ton of incremental improvement to my overall recovery and giving me motivation to work out more consistently.
I’m really looking forward to competing in my first dragon boat race with VAX Dragon Boat in Flushing and continuing to get stronger!
I love team sports – having done lacrosse and fencing for years in the past – team mentality and giving it all is part of my nature. Team sports helped shaped who I am today. It’s intoxicating to be a part of it all again. Balancing my competitive nature and team spirit with not overextending is tough though. I truly appreciate Coach Justin and my friend Simon (who convinced me to join) for helping me maintain the balance. So far it’s adding a ton of incremental improvement to my overall recovery and giving me motivation to work out more consistently.
I’m really looking forward to competing in my first dragon boat race with VAX Dragon Boat in Flushing and continuing to get stronger!
Johnny joined VAX Dragon Boat in Season 2, 2023 after a long hiatus of not paddling since 2019.
Johnny Yeung, 2023
Johnny Yeung, 2023
I started Dragon Boat in high school not because I wanted to, but because my friend nudged me into it. I was anxious and insecure. I didn’t know anyone. Athletic? Definitely not. But I decided to take the leap of faith. That maybe, maybe I would like it as a brief summer fling.
I found solace in paddling over the next two years, surrounded by people yet alone with my thoughts. Dragon Boat is a sport where the sum is greater than the individual, but also a personal pursuit that challenged my negative self-talk. I grew both physically and mentally. I had found something approximating fulfillment despite everything else.
Then I finished high school. College immediately kicked my ass. My relationship made me feel lonely. Gained friends and lost even more. Quarantine was a regression in every way possible. Before I knew it, college flew by in a haze, anticlimactic yet overwhelming. I graduated this year feeling like I had ruined my life. I had grown as a person, but at what cost? I didn't know myself anymore.
I didn’t even know if I wanted to paddle again. But I didn’t want to lose this part of my life. I craved competing. The adrenaline. The people. The conversations. If I didn't paddle, I would always wonder about the "what-ifs”. Without Dragon Boat, I wouldn’t have left the country for the first time and miraculously won a 2000m — that race is literally seared into my memory. And at the end of the day, I’m already living with too many regrets.
In climbing we’re brought to life.
I wish I could say I have my life figured out because my life is a mess right now. We're little people living our little stories, with our little thoughts and little feelings, trying to make sense of a world that feels bigger than life. But I’m trying my best to hold onto steadfast optimism.
It would be dramatic to say that Dragon Boat saved my life, but there are such valuable aspects to discovering who you are. And the sport has certainly taught me a lot.
So I’ve been paddling again this year. Partially for self-improvement. Partially because it’s fun for its own sake. Or maybe I’ve been getting a fantastic tan lately, but I digress.
I don’t know what the future will be like, but I love what I do.
I found solace in paddling over the next two years, surrounded by people yet alone with my thoughts. Dragon Boat is a sport where the sum is greater than the individual, but also a personal pursuit that challenged my negative self-talk. I grew both physically and mentally. I had found something approximating fulfillment despite everything else.
Then I finished high school. College immediately kicked my ass. My relationship made me feel lonely. Gained friends and lost even more. Quarantine was a regression in every way possible. Before I knew it, college flew by in a haze, anticlimactic yet overwhelming. I graduated this year feeling like I had ruined my life. I had grown as a person, but at what cost? I didn't know myself anymore.
I didn’t even know if I wanted to paddle again. But I didn’t want to lose this part of my life. I craved competing. The adrenaline. The people. The conversations. If I didn't paddle, I would always wonder about the "what-ifs”. Without Dragon Boat, I wouldn’t have left the country for the first time and miraculously won a 2000m — that race is literally seared into my memory. And at the end of the day, I’m already living with too many regrets.
In climbing we’re brought to life.
I wish I could say I have my life figured out because my life is a mess right now. We're little people living our little stories, with our little thoughts and little feelings, trying to make sense of a world that feels bigger than life. But I’m trying my best to hold onto steadfast optimism.
It would be dramatic to say that Dragon Boat saved my life, but there are such valuable aspects to discovering who you are. And the sport has certainly taught me a lot.
So I’ve been paddling again this year. Partially for self-improvement. Partially because it’s fun for its own sake. Or maybe I’ve been getting a fantastic tan lately, but I digress.
I don’t know what the future will be like, but I love what I do.
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