I felt surprisingly energetic yesterday morning after Friday night's racing. We would be concluding our seven-day camp with two Miller's Runs before lunchtime. The wind was picking back up: the gauge at the Fish Hoek Beach Sports Club was registering gusts as high as 30 knots.
We drove to Miller's Point and unloaded our boats. Jasper reminded us of how things work on the Miller's Run with the current wind conditions: from the start to the Roman Rock lighthouse, we would point our boats to the right, feeling the wind on both ears, and catch the small wind chop; then we would use the speed generated to turn left onto larger runs; then we would steer back right and ride those runs as long as possible. Once past the lighthouse we would be angling past Fish Hoek and would have to read the conditions for ourselves as to whether to go right or left.
At least the rules are simple until I reach the lighthouse, I thought. I paddled out of the slipway and began to establish a rhythm: get my speed up on some wind chop, then take that speed somewhere. Wash, rinse, repeat.
I felt good for the six or so kilometers from Miller's Point to the lighthouse. But then the conditions started getting bigger and the rules changed a bit, and I had a little more trouble maintaining my rhythm. At one point Dawid paddled up behind me and reminded me to look left as well as right. I struggled with that, and it seemed like a lot of good runs were getting away from me, but I kept on trying until I surfed in to the beach.
I quickly took my boat back to the trailer and readied myself for the second run. We had some change in personnel--one camper was opting out of the second run, while a couple of others who had skipped the first run were joining us; so I stood around getting cold for longer than I would have liked. But at last we were organized and ready to go. We returned to Miller's Point and soon I was in the boat once more.
I was trying to ride each run to the right like I'd done on the first run, but Dawid told me it was okay to stay pointed left longer if that helped prolong the ride. I moved along and got into a nice rhythm.
Apparently the wind abated quite a bit during our second run, but I can't say I was aware of that at the time. I was laser-focused on using the conditions to the best of my ability. This time I felt better on the section from the lighthouse to the beach: I was working less hard and getting greater reward from the swells.
This week I was never trying to set any Miller's Run records--I was out there to practice and learn--but I did keep my eye on the time of each run, for whatever that feedback was worth. During the week my times seemed to range between 51 and 56 minutes. I should note that we never quite did a "full" Miller's Run: to do that you have to start next to a big rock at Miller's Point, and we were always starting a few hundred meters beyond that rock.
Anyway, yesterday I clocked 51-something for my first run and 54-something for my second run. Maybe the lighter wind was the reason for the slower second run... I'm not sure. But at least you have an idea of how fast I'm doing Miller's Runs. I'll just add that the current Miller's Run record in a single ski is held by one Jasper Mocke: 36 minutes and change.
On weekends the kitchen is open at the beach club, and as I changed into dry clothes Dawid asked me if I wanted to order a bacon, egg, and cheese roll. I knew that the innkeeper at the B and B was planning to feed me when I got back, so I should have said no thank you, but at the moment the B.E.C. roll sounded good, so I said yes. That turned out to be a mistake. I wolfed down the roll at the club, then hurried back to the B and B so I wouldn't be late for my meal there. Knowing that I was cramming two Miller's Runs into the morning, the innkeeper presented me with an extra-big meal: two eggs and four--yes, four--meats: a beef patty, a pork sausage, some chicken schnitzel, and bacon. Now, growing up I was taught that I should clean my plate, and of course food waste has become a global problem that I don't wish to exacerbate. But I had no idea whether I'd be able to consume that entire meal. I tried to pace myself with small bites and thorough chewing, but it became more and more clear that I would not be able to finish. I was stuffed, and I knew that trying to eat it all as a matter of principle would just make me sick. I apologetically turned in my plate with most of the beef, bacon, and schnitzel uneaten.
My stomach feeling like a ten-kilogram weight, I lumbered upstairs and collapsed for a long nap. I was thoroughly exhausted, not just from the morning's paddling and the eating but from the entire week. The wind picked back up and I could hear it howling outside. When I got up in the late afternoon I went outside to take a walk, but the wind was blowing so hard that it wasn't all that pleasant to be out there. I finally returned to my room and had a light snack in lieu of supper, then read my book for a while before turning in.
This morning I slept in an hour later than I have been this week. I'm totally in decompression mode now. The wind continues to blow, and I expect there are many people out on the Miller's Run today. If I really wanted to get in another run myself I could probably arrange to use the boat one more time, but I don't think I have it in me. I know people will read this and think "Are you crazy?? You flew overseas! You need to be doing every last downwind run you possibly can!!!!" But right now I'm bordering on catatonic. Who knows... maybe this afternoon an opportunity will present itself, and I'll rally. But right now I'm good.
I'm scheduled to fly out of Cape Town tomorrow evening at 8 o'clock, so I have a day and a half to savor life in the town of Fish Hoek.
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