Way back inland

I arrived home Friday evening after about seven and a half hours of driving.  I enjoy visiting the seashore and the mountains and all such wonderful places, but I'm always happy to get back to my home here in good old Memphis, Tennessee.

I took it relatively easy on Thursday after a couple of fairly tiring sessions in the boat on Tuesday and Wednesday.  I did two sets of the May-June strength routine Thursday morning, and in the afternoon I went to the beach with the rest of the family and let the water of the Gulf work its therapeutic magic on me.

I was feeling the pep back in my step Friday morning, and I went out in the boat for sixty minutes, doing four backstrokes-followed-by-forward-strokes power-building drills and then some ultra-short race-pace training.  I usually feel pretty tired after 40 minutes or so of u.s.r.p.t., but this time I felt like I could go at least another half-hour.  I didn't do that, however.  Instead, I let my niece Rachel and my nephew Ben join me on the water one more time before I headed home.

Yesterday I did another two sets of the May-June strength routine.  I planned to get back in the boat this morning, but when a look at the Internet radar revealed a huge bunch of rain moving in, I decided to put it off until the afternoon.  I went down to the river around four o'clock this afternoon... and got rained on anyway.  Oh well-- "skin is waterproof," they used to tell me at summer camp.

Not a joint-friendly locale

Here we are in the Heart o' Dixie, albeit not the heart o' the Heart o' Dixie.  We're on Dauphin Island on the Gulf Coast of Alabama.

My mother took this photo of my niece Rachel and me a couple of days ago:

For a paddler, there's no mission more sacred than the sharing of the sport with the young ones in his life, that they may grow up to be just as eccentric as he.

This morning Mississippi Sound was as placid as it's likely to be this week, so I got up and out for a good steady hour-long paddle to work out the kinks from yesterday's workout.  I felt tired in the boat and just tried to relax and take good strokes in the sort-of-choppy water.

My shoulder also hurt a bit--I seem to have strained it, but I don't think I did so paddling.  The house we've rented this year has terrible water access for canoes and kayaks: the backyard is some five feet above the water level, requiring paddlers to climb down a vertical concrete retaining wall into their boats.  The process is particularly challenging with my tippy surf ski, and I think I've aggravated my shoulder while lowering myself down into the boat at an awkward angle.

I have a feeling beachfront property developers don't think much about paddlers when they build docks and wharves: the dock we have is perfect for a yacht or houseboat but not for any sort of human-powered craft.  I also expect that low docks aren't common on a barrier island like this because of the fluctuation of tides.  The truth is, I'm a bit spoiled by my situation at home, where I enjoy a nice low dock attached to a floating marina that's always right at water level.  I'll be glad to be back there.

Blustery beach

I think I've been participating in this little family trip to Dauphin Island for four years now, and at least at this time of year the weather seems never to be dead calm.  So far this week it's been breezy with occasional heavy storms moving through.  I'm a fairly regimented guy by nature, but doing an "outdoor" sport has taught me to make some adjustments on the fly when the conditions aren't what I'd like them to be.

Yesterday I paddled with my 11-year-old niece Rachel.  Right now she seems to be the most enthusiastic of my sister's four kids for paddling, and she did very well even though the boat I'd brought for her to paddle was really designed for a heavier-set adult.  The wind pushed her around some but she handled it well.  After we paddled for a half-hour or so I helped her with some deep-water self-rescue technique.

This morning some very strong storms passed through, and outside our window Mississippi Sound looked as violent as the open sea.  I stayed in and did two sets of the May-June strength routine.  By this afternoon things had calmed down and I embarked on a 60-minute session in the sound.  After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I did eight 30-stroke sprints at three-minute intervals.  I still had some waves to deal with that were big enough to make me open my surf ski's drain plug, but I was able to paddle with good power for most of the workout.

After that I stayed in the boat and paddled some more with Rachel and with her 12-year-old brother, Ben.  This additional labor of love finished me off for the day.

Monday photo feature

This article appeared in the Asheville Citizen-Times the day after a 2003 race called The French Broad Paddle Challenge, which has since morphed into a two-day event called the French Broad Classique.

Lecky Haller, a Maryland native who now makes his home in Asheville, North Carolina, is one of the greatest canoe-kayak athletes the U.S. has ever had.  He and his brother Fritz won the 1983 world championship in whitewater slalom double canoe; he teamed up with Jamie McEwan to finish a split-second out of the medals in the 1992 Olympic C2 slalom competition; and he made another Olympic team, in 2000, with Matt Taylor as a C2 slalom partner.

Because of all that and more, I've always been a bit embarrassed by this article because it leads the reader to believe that I am an athlete of the same caliber as Lecky.  It also points out some ways in which our sport is not so easy to understand for people who are not fully immersed in it.

The article fails to mention that Lecky and I were competing in different boat classes, and therefore not really competing against each other: Lecky, ever the die-hard canoeist, was paddling a USCA-style marathon single canoe (C1), and he was in fact the fastest paddler on the river in that class that day.  I, meanwhile, was in a single kayak (K1).  The most obvious difference between these two boats is that a canoeist uses a single-bladed paddle while a kayaker uses a paddle with two blades, and that alone gives the kayaker a significant speed advantage.  Even so, I knew better than to ignore Lecky once the gun went off: I've actually been beaten in my kayak by several top C1 paddlers (I've written on that topic here), and I was not at all certain that an athlete as good as Lecky wouldn't get the better of me.  Even though, as it turned out, he didn't, I was nevertheless one of only three kayakers he didn't beat.

If I had been paddling the same kind of boat Lecky was in, I'm fairly certain he would have beaten me easily.  What's more, paddling a marathon canoe is not even what Lecky does best: his greatest gift, the gift that carried him to a world title and two Olympic teams, is paddling in the stern of a whitewater C2.  So hyping the presence of this particular Olympian in a sixteen-mile race down a mostly-flat section of the French Broad River is like hyping the presence of an Olympic diver in an open-water swim competition.

And so, I sort of cringed when the writer stated that I'd come to take "a shot at Haller's head" when in fact Lecky was easily the best athlete on the river.  For his part, Lecky just laughed about it--on top of everything else, he's an exceptionally nice, down-to-Earth guy.  I saw him a month or so after this article ran and he teasingly called me "Champ."

A broader issue raised by this article is that the casual observer is easily confused by the fact that all vessels in our sport are not created equal.  More than once, regarding a race in which some great canoeist has competed, I've had to answer the question, "If that guy is such a big deal, how come he wasn't the fastest?"  I sometimes wonder whether canoeists like having kayakers in the same races as they, since in most cases it means a canoeist won't be the first across the finish line.

This is probably one of the reasons our sport never has achieved the broader popularity of, say, snow-skiing: in skiing, every athlete competes on two skis, without the confusing division into classes that paddling has.

Doing it well is what's fun

I did the May-June strength routine both Friday and yesterday, and it feels good to be active with that.  I think the rubber band exercises complement nicely the ones I'd already been doing for my shoulder.

On Saturday I paddled for 40 minutes in the harbor and a little bit out on the river.  I did three 8-stroke sprints and paddled a not-too-hard and not-too-easy pace.  Though it was officially a recovery session after the harder paddling I'd done on Thursday, I wasn't completely docile out there.  The only time I really keep the intensity low is when I'm truly exhausted, such as on the day after a race.  When I'm feeling good I'll push the pace a little from time to time, and of course concentrate on good technique... I like paddling with good technique, after all.

I am now out of town once again: each year my mother and I and my sister's family get together down at Dauphin Island on the Alabama Gulf Coast.  I hope to get a couple of good workouts in, but I've also brought a second boat so my nieces and nephews can have some fun with me on the water.  The biggest challenge will be the weather: it looks like there will be storms in the area all week.

Trying to train for real again

Last weekend I traveled to Texas to see my niece graduate from college, and for several days I didn't paddle or do much of anything else.  I hoped that bit of rest might finish off this shoulder ailment.

Alas, when I paddled Tuesday (70 minutes in the harbor), it flared up again, and has done so a couple of more times this week.  But the soreness subsides quickly, and I'm hoping that's a sign of improvement.  I'm continuing to stretch and warm up thoroughly and do several exercises that target the area.

Yesterday I started up a new strength routine to run from now until the Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race on June 20 (I'll call it the May-June strength routine).  Because I'll be spending next week on the Alabama Gulf Coast, I wanted this routine to be easily portable; so I went with some body-weight and rubber band exercises.  It goes like this:

1.  Hindu squats (demonstrated in this video)
2.  Rubber band exercises demonstrated at 6:58 & 7:11 of this video by reigning Olympic K1 slalom champion Daniele Molmenti
3.  Four-way abdominal exercises
4.  A couple of rubber band exercises that I can't find any video of
5.  "Superman" plank exercises
6.  Rubber band exercises seen at 8:42 & 9:30 of the Daniele Molmenti video

This was the first time since March that I'd done any sort of leg exercises, and right now my quadriceps muscles are wicked sore as a result.

This morning I went back down to the harbor and did some higher-intensity paddling for the first time since the shoulder started hurting.  After a ten-minute warmup, I did three 8-stroke sprints followed by 40 minutes of ultra-short race pace training.  The shoulder felt fine until about 45 minutes in, when I began to feel some soreness.  I tried to stay relaxed and do the work with my legs and lower torso.

Monday photo feature

This article appeared in The Vicksburg Post the day after the 2011 Bluz Cruz Canoe and Kayak Race.  That year I had my fastest time ever--an hour, 56 minutes, 34 seconds--and that time stood for two years as the course record.  In 2013, three-time Olympian Mike Herbert knocked almost five minutes off my mark with a 1:51:43 clocking.

Teaching is learning

Yesterday morning I taught the first of six "Intro to Kayaking" classes that Outdoors, Inc., is offering this summer.  Heavy rain had fallen overnight, but by 8 AM the worst of it had moved out and five students and I braved the lingering showers on Pine Lake out at Shelby Farms.

One of the best woodworking instructors I have worked with once pointed out that "the most highly-skilled people are the ones who simply do the basics better than everyone else."  That's why I think teaching others is the best way to become truly proficient at something: even though I was a math major in college, it wasn't until I had taught it at the high school level for a few years that I gained a comfortable knowledge of mathematics up through first-year calculus.  That's because teaching forced me to revisit the basics and learn things I'd thought I'd known even better.  Paddling is no different.  In these classes out at Pine Lake, I'm covering things I've done a million times--adjusting the life jacket and skirt, holding the paddle, getting in a boat and adjusting the foot pegs and engaging the rudder--but I'm forced to explain why I do each step the way I do, and questions from the beginning students often prompt me to think about the basics in ways I never have before.

One of the best summer camp canoeing programs I have ever seen is the one at Camp Merrie-Woode for girls near Cashiers, North Carolina.  The highest rank a girl can achieve in that program is "Captain," and one of the final hurdles she must clear to earn that rank is to teach some novice person the basics of paddling.  I believe that to call yourself an expert in any field, you must spend time teaching others.

The wheels continue to turn

I did another loop of the harbor (70 minutes) with Joe yesterday morning.  The shoulder was sore Wednesday evening and yesterday morning, but it didn't bother me in the boat.

I've kept up my April-May strength routine through all this; I plan to switch over to a May-June routine by next week.

Hopeful signs

These days I seem to be alternating between feeling that the shoulder problem is all gone and feeling just a hint of pain there.  I've been through both states today.  This morning I felt no pain at all; then, while paddling a full loop of the harbor with Joe, I had several moments where I felt that hint of pain.  Now, sitting here writing this post in the evening, I'm back to feeling no pain at all.

All told, I'm encouraged by what's going on, and there's no question the shoulder is doing better on average.  I'm reading these occasional hints of pain as caution signs, telling me not to push too hard too soon.  The plan for this week is to do another easy lap of the harbor on Thursday, and then on Saturday teach the first of six "Intro to Kayaking" classes for Outdoors, Inc., that I've got scheduled for this summer.  Maybe by next week I'll be ready to do some real workouts again.

Monday photo feature

While doing some cleaning last week I found a few paddling- or river-related newspaper clippings that I'd decided were worth keeping for whatever reason.  I think I'll share them here over the next few Mondays.

Each summer when I was little, my family would join my parents' best friends' family at the cabin they owned on the Spring River at the resort town of Hardy, Arkansas, a couple of hours from Memphis.  These trips felt magical to me for many reasons--I think I've mentioned in the past that I first got in a canoe at Hardy--but there was nothing I loved more than the old steel bridge, dubbed "the broken-down bridge" by my sister and me because of its rusty, rickety appearance.

This article appeared in Memphis's daily newspaper, The Commercial Appeal, after floodwaters swept the bridge away in December of 1982.

I was no longer a little kid in 1982--I turned 15 that year--but I was still naive enough to believe that I could count on beloved traditions and routines to go on forever.  The demise of the "broken-down bridge" was one of two major blows to that belief I took in '82 (the other being the sale of the beautiful property my summer camp had occupied since 1924; thankfully, the camp's director was able to arrange a partnership that bought the camp and moved it to a lovely location nearby).  Today, a generic concrete bridge spans the Spring River where the old one had stood.

In search of good muscular health

I've spent the week nursing my shoulder along and engaging cautiously in activities.

By Tuesday the cortisone shot and anti-inflammatory medication seemed to be taking effect, and the pain in my right shoulder had subsided.  I did a very short, very easy paddle Tuesday morning, going from the marina down to the mouth of the harbor and back.

After many years of dealing, as both a distance runner and a paddler, with a variety of aches and pains and muscle strains, I'm still no great expert, but I have learned a few things.  One of them is to resist the urge to return to training too quickly.  Another is that the injury was probably caused by a flaw in technique or by a muscle imbalance, and that I should look for some kind of corrective measure.

Correcting a muscle imbalance is a relatively simple matter.  I've found a couple of very simple exercises that I hope will address muscle weaknesses in the rotator cuff area in the coming weeks.  Determining whether there's a problem in my stroke is a trickier challenge for a self-coached athlete with no expert eyes on him every day.  At times like this I feel like my own worst enemy, trying to "protect" the injured area with each stroke rather than just paddling in a normal, relaxed way.

I paddled again on Friday--again, I just went down to the mouth of the harbor and back--and felt a bit more confident.  I hope to increase the distance a little bit next week and see how higher intensity feels the week after that.

Monday photo feature

Jimmy Guidry of Lafayette, Louisiana, was all set to race at Vicksburg several weeks ago, but a live oak branch in the yard of the bed-and-breakfast where he was staying forced him to rethink that plan. There was not a scratch on his truck.

Mostly good news, I guess

I saw the orthopedic doctor Friday and though I didn't have an MRI done (that would have bumped us up into a higher level of insurance company red tape), he was very confident that my injury was merely some inflammation rather than a tear.  I first noticed the pain in the shoulder as I did a recovery paddle the morning after the race at Bayou Teche two weeks ago, and the doctor said that if I had torn something in the race I would have known it immediately.

And that was my main purpose for going to the doctor: making sure this isn't something serious that would require surgery or some other aggressive treatment.  It turns out it's most likely not, and that's a good thing.  I'm always a little disheartened, however, at how little understanding of athletes the typical orthopedist seems to have.  This doctor, while no doubt an expert in the human skeletomuscular system, didn't seem all that interested in sharing insight on how my injury might have developed, how I might get back to full strength as soon as possible, or how I might prevent the injury from reoccurring.  He gave me a cortisone shot and prescribed an oral anti-inflammatory, and told me to take a few days off from paddling until I felt better.

And in fact I am spending a few days out of the boat.  With seven weeks before my next race, some rest won't hurt.  And I'm still doing my strength routine in the interim.  But I'm going to look for ways to rehabilitate this ailment so I can paddle again soon without recurrence.