On December 28, 2016 Nathan Schliesman ’17, Nick Angelillo ’17, and 5 other top-notch student rowers entered the Seattle Rowing Center building in Ballard “just next to Ocean Beauty Seafood.” 65 hours, 37 minutes, and 28 seconds later they emerged world record holders for the Under 19 Lightweight Men’s Small Team Record for the Million Meter Distance, “the most obscure sounding record ever” according to Schliesman. What took place in those 3 days was a feat of athleticism, teamwork, and discipline that few people can imagine. To win the world record, these boys went through Hell.

You can tell that Schliesman and Angelillo are rowers just by looking at them. Both boys are fit, wiry, and often bagged-eyed from their insane rowing schedules which have them waking up at 4 in the morning to row for hours before school. Talking to them, however, fails to provide a window into the dedication and focus these boys give to rowing. Both are easy going and quick to crack a joke.

The idea to try to beat the million-mile world record came when the Seattle Rowing Company’s “in-air-quote friends,” as Angelillo called them, The Redwood Scullers in California, beat the record. Up until that point there had been no record for the age group. The Seattle Rowing Center was confident they could beat the record. “And we crushed it by four hours” said Angelillo.

That summation fails to relay the intensity of the feat. The setup was this: seven boys, ages 16-18 taking turns on a rowing machine “the erg” as they call it, switching off shift after shift for 65 hours. That’s almost three days with little to no sleep and constant physical strain that would be mind-boggling to the average person.

“The first day all of us were pumped off our asses” said Angelillo, “we watched four and a half seasons of the office that day.” They had a tv set up in front of the erg. But by the end of the first day going into night, the work became challenging. Where the first day they had switched off every 2k on the erg (about 8 minutes a shift), the first night they decided to go to 30 minute segments.

“It was nice because you got to sleep between shifts,” said Angelillo.

“But your body’s not made for that,” said Schliesman, “you started questioning life by the end of that half hour.”

“I think we didn’t realize the physical strain your body was under in that time frame,” said Angelillo, “it was miserable.”

“And the whole time The Office theme was blaring in your head,” said Angelillo.

“Some of the guys still have PTSD over that,” said Schliesman,” when I hear that jingle I flinch.”

“You were so braindead by the end of the 30 minute shifts, you just wanted it off,” said Angellilo, “I’ll listen to silence!”

“You needed something with more explosions,” said Schliesman. Angelillo nodded, “if you were going to quit, you would have quit that night.”

From the late hours of day one and into the early hours of day two the boys would follow this routine. They would struggle through 30 minute shifts of intense rowing before collapsing off the erg, exhausted. They would then have to stretch to keep themselves from tearing anything before falling into a fitful sleep, always ready to be awoken by the alarm for their next shift.

“You’d be lucky to get an hour and a half,” said Angelillo. Some rowers did two shifts, others three, but by the end of the first night all had agreed that 30 minute shifts were not going to continue.

The second day they were back to 2k shifts, staying alive on a diet of Redbull and girlscout cookies.

“A lot of Redbull and girlscout cookies,” said Schliesman.

As the second day came on, a new challenge arose: eating. On the first day Nathan had weighed in at 163 lbs, two lbs under the 165 lb limit. By the end of the first night he was 172. Every weigh-in after that put him at 157.

“You lose the appetite,” said Schliesman, “eating becomes an art just to keep yourself functioning.”

There was another way the boys kept themselves functioning: BCAA packets, or branched-chain amino acids. These packets were brought in by a friend of the team on day two to help the boys keep their metabolisms up.

“What we didn’t realize was that each one had three times the caffeine of a Redbull,” said Angelillo, “so that kept some of us going into the third day with minor heart problems.”

The second night they kept it up with 4k shifts to allow for a little more sleep, and then went back to 2ks for the morning of the third day. They were getting close.

“We powered through,” said Nick, pulling up a video on his phone. No one slept the third night.

“Look how terrible I’m rowing,” said Schliesman, watching the video, “I remember how heavy it felt.” A group bigger than 7 gathered around him on the erg as the team approached a million meters. Friends and teammates had come to cheer them on on the last day.

“You were sticking with it for the person next to you,” said Angelillo.

“The person in front of you and behind you,” said Schliesman.

Finally, at around 3:30 AM on December 31, Angelillo crossed the million mile marker. Teammates popped party poppers. Angellilo slumped on the erg.

“Honestly, the ending was overrated,” said Schliesman.

“I was in a very bad mood and I was in a lot of pain,” said Angelillo.

But they were world record holders. They had raised $5,000 for the charity organization Outdoors for All. (“$5,155 exactly” said Schliesman, dabbing.) And in 65 hours, with barely any sleep and extreme physical and mental exhaustion, they had crushed their goal.

“My sleep schedule was [messed] for the next three days,” said Schliesman. He would wake up periodically every night, and even had nightmares about sleeping through an alarm and leaving Angelillo alone to row, Angelillo’s body wasting away until he was nothing but flesh hanging from bones, still rowing, “Pirates of the Caribbean style,” said Schliesman.

“That’s what I look like already” said Angelillo.

When asked if they would do it again, both boys responded almost in unison: “of course.”