Fun vs. "fun"

The Mid South weather has settled into standard January fare: not freezing cold, but cold nevertheless, with pesky breezes adding some bite.  Maybe we'll have some more warm spells like we did last weekend, but right now we're at the time of year when winter really starts to feel like a drag, and there's at least another month of it to go.

Yesterday I went out on my "long" paddle for the week.  Around two hours is what I consider "long," seeing as how the longest races I enter are in that category of duration.

I was hoping to do another trip around the Loosahatchie Bar--I figured I'd do a clockwise loop yesterday since I'd done it counterclockwise a week before.  But the wind was more of a problem than I'd expected.  It was blowing from the west, kind of unusual in a region where north and south winds are the most common.  Once I was out of the harbor and paddling up the Tennessee side of the Mississippi, I found myself dealing with a beam wind that was driving waves from left to right, and those waves were bouncing off the bank and moving back to the left.  By the time I was above the Hernando DeSoto Bridge I had spent a lot of energy in those messy conditions.  I ferried across to the Arkansas side, where the forested banks gave me nice protection, but I was pretty tired, and I began thinking ahead: if I were to continue paddling up the Loosahatchie Chute all the way to the top of the bar, I'd be paddling back down a choppy river on a practically empty tank, and in that condition I'd be ripe for hypothermia in the event of an untimely flip.  And a not-so-existential hazard was simply having a lot of paddling left to do after exhaustion had set in: the main reason I almost never do any ultra-long training paddles is that a person can go for only so long before his stroke mechanics begin to fall apart, and then from that point on he is ingraining bad habits as he plods along with one poor stroke after another.

So discretion was the better part of valor yesterday: I paddled about two-thirds of the way up the chute and then turned around.  I returned to the south end of the Loosahatchie Bar, then paddled back into the main channel, then re-entered the harbor, then paddled the 2000 meters or so back to the marina.  I did a couple of loops around the marina until I had paddled an even 120 minutes.

When I returned to the river today the temperature was again hovering in the chilly mid-40s-Fahrenheit range, and the wind had shifted to the west-northwest and was blowing even harder.  My motivation was low, but with a stiff upper lip I got back in my boat and paddled for 60 minutes.

I firmly believe that you should choose something you genuinely consider fun when you're looking for an activity that will improve your fitness.  In general there's not anything I consider more fun than paddling a boat, but times like this weekend put that attitude to the test.  It would have been very easy to skip paddling altogether this weekend, and some might argue that that's what I should have done, but I justify my decision with the "delayed gratification" argument.  I enjoy showing up at races feeling good about my fitness and confident in my ability to compete hard.  Paddling this weekend felt like a real chore, but the reward will come later.