This Way Up: Breast cancer survivors pull together on a boat

In his new book, The Social Animal, David Brooks makes a strong case for connection, community, and group participation. According to one study he cites, joining a group that meets even just once a month produces the same happiness gain as doubling your income.

That assertion came to mind the other night as I listened to Tobi Goldberg Maguire give an impromptu thank-you speech to the women on her dragon boat team.

It was 10 years to the day since her mastectomy, Maguire announced. Seven years ago, she joined the team, and six weeks after that, her sister died.

Maguire, of Melrose Park, recalled the consoling words of a teammate: "I'm sorry to hear about your sister, but you have a whole boatload of new sisters here."

They call themselves Hope Afloat, a name both inspired and inspiring because the 40 or so women who paddle for the team are all breast-cancer survivors. This is the team's 10th anniversary, and over the years it has included women ranging in age from the late 20s to mid-70s, of all shapes and sizes, all levels of physical condition and athletic ability.

That was evident on a recent evening as a couple of dozen members of the team practiced in the new paddle pool at Main Line Health & Fitness in Bryn Mawr.

"Push with the legs, pull with the core!" exhorted their coach, Robin Parker, 57, of Plymouth Meeting. "Crunch down and remember your exit. It's just as important as the catch."

The women plunged their paddles into the churning water and pulled hard, seeking to move in unison as they increased power and pace. Some looked fierce and seemed fueled by anger. A few vocalized each stroke with a grunt, like a pro tennis player swatting a tremendous forehand.

"They're tough broads," said Meg Fasy, 46, of Society Hill, a three-time cancer survivor who recently joined the team. "Everybody is really welcoming, but at the same time, very competitive. These women have been through a lot, and nothing stops them."

Dragon boat racing, with roots in ancient China, is increasingly popular in the United States. Philadelphia hosts two big events, the Independence Dragon Boat Regatta in June and the International Dragon Boat Festival in October.

Breast-cancer survivors began flocking to the sport after Don McKenzie, a Canadian physician and exercise scientist, proved in the '90s that it was not only unharmful but also beneficial. Previously, such women had been told to avoid strenuous upper-body exercise, for fear it might cause or aggravate lymphedema, a painful swelling of the limbs.

In Vancouver in 2005, at the first regatta exclusively for breast-cancer survivors, Hope Afloat beat all the U.S. teams and placed second overall.

Hope Afloat has traveled also to Italy and Australia and will take part this summer in the Pan Am Games in Florida. Practice on the Schuylkill begins in April, and before the season ends in November, the team typically vies in four to six regattas. This year, the paddle pool, which opened in January and is billed as unique in the United States, has given the team a jump.

"It's a terrific teaching tool," says Parker, enabling her to correct technique in a way she can't from a launch.

More than 20 teams use the pool regularly, including squads from as far as New York City and Washington.

"It's about making people athletes who were never athletes, in a sport anybody can do," says Roger Schwab, of Main Line Health & Fitness. "They become very passionate."

Such a description fits Mary Kay Roehr, 66, of Havertown, who joined the team eight years ago after reconstructive surgery. "I was so down and out about having cancer," she said. "This is the last thing I thought I'd be doing. But it gets in your blood and is so empowering. I feel much more positive about myself, especially when we win."

Cancer of any sort rudely reminds us of mortality. Since the team began in 2001, nine women have died; in 2007, Hope Afloat lost three members in two weeks. The team is a generous source of support but does not deal in pity. Says Fasy: "There are no tears in dragon boats."

The women refuse to let the thing they have in common, breast cancer, define them or dominate their conversations. "We hardly ever talk about it," says Nancy Glasgow, 59, of the Fairmount section of Philadelphia. "It's more about living and being positive."

Near the end of practice, Coach Parker led the women through a visualization exercise.

"Just because we don't make big bucks doesn't mean we're not athletes," Parker declared. "When I'm lined up for a race, I'm thinking, 'It's up to me to get this boat down the river by myself. That's how hard I'm going to pull.' People who say it's not about winning, they're full of soup. I want to cross the line first. I want gold."