Monday photo feature

This is a screen shot from an old VHS video I bought back in the early/mid 1990s.  At the time I was determined to practice whitewater slalom any way I could in my whitewater-poor part of the country, and the video showed a bunch of stroke drills that an athlete can do on flatwater.  In the photo above, Dana Chladek, a U.S. team member in the 1980s and 90s, demonstrates "SWEEPS Weaving a Line."

I did lots and lots of these drills in the harbor downtown and on Patriot Lake over on the east side of town.  Now, 30 years later, I'm still doing a lot of drills, although these days they're oriented more toward effective rotation at the hips for maximum stroke power.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Ups and downs in water levels and energy levels

On Tuesday morning I did a gym session and then headed down to the river.  I paddled in the harbor for 60 minutes, and during the 40-minute period from 0:10 to 0:50 I did a little workout of (1 minute on, 2 minutes off).  For each "on" period I kept the stroke rate in the 70s; I didn't have my cadence sensor with me, but when you're doing one-minute pieces it's easy enough to count your strokes.  The workout felt good and it was nice to have something besides the hip rotation to occupy my attention.  I came away feeling good about what I'd done, and it's seemed like that hasn't often been the case lately.

The Mississippi River had crested over the weekend around 22 feet on the Memphis gauge.  Over the 30 years or so that I've been paddling regularly on the Memphis riverfront, that's not a remarkable level, but it sure feels high compared to the levels we'd been having since last summer.  It's dropping now and the current forecast says the level will be back in the single digits in a few days.  Hopefully some more rain will fall in the Midwest soon and keep the river up.  There's something satisfying about paddling atop a mass of freshly-fallen rain.

It's been a while since I've provided an update on the aches-and-pains front, and I guess that's because I haven't been feeling too bad lately.  But there are definitely little things I'm dealing with.  That pain in my right clavicle that was so bad a couple of months ago isn't gone, but it's not as bad as it was.  Meanwhile I'm having soreness in my wrists and forearms, and I suspect that's being caused more by chores in the woodworking shop than by paddling my boat.  Some days I have some stiffness in my lower and upper back, and some days I don't.  Maybe the best news is that the pain I was having in my hip flexor in December seems to have run its course.  That means I've got the option of incorporating some running into the routine again, though I'll probably wait until the weather is consistently warmer.

I've also had a few days this week where my digestion felt out of whack-- sort of a low-grade unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach.  As of this writing I think it's doing better, but it's lasted long enough to make me start thinking of morbid scenarios like some terrible cancer of the stomach or colon or intestines.  I sure hope that's nothing more than my silly imagination.

I was back in the boat Thursday doing another 60 minutes in the harbor.  It was mostly a steady paddle this time in which I focused, as usual, on hip rotation.  On Friday I stayed in and did a gym session.

The weather was cool but sunny when I paddled on Tuesday and Thursday.  By Saturday it was just the opposite: a bunch of rain had moved into the Mid South, while the temperature was up in the 60s on the Fahrenheit thermometer.  I went down to the river Saturday morning and found it shrouded in fog, and the fog seemed to thicken as I paddled out of the harbor, up the Mississippi to the mouth of the Wolf River, and back down.  Coming downriver I stayed within sight of the left bank just so I would know where I was, and so I wouldn't be surprised by any silent barge rigs.  It wasn't until I was maybe 400 meters from the Hernando DeSoto Bridge that I was able to see the bridge's steel trusses.  Once I was back in the harbor the fog was thick for several hundred meters, and then, suddenly, I came out of it.  By the time I was back in my car, maybe a half-hour later, departing the riverfront, the fog was all gone from the river.

As for how I felt in the boat Saturday, well... I felt lousy.  I was sluggish and slow, and the low visibility out on the river had almost a vertigo effect.  I guess I've always struggled to have some giddy-up during the gloom of January and February, but I think it might be worse than ever this year.

I was out of the boat yesterday because the handbell group I play with had a gig.  I'm also busy with a fairly complicated project in my woodworking shop.  I'm hoping that spending some time with those things for a bit will be a good way for me to hit the reset button.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Monday photo feature

Here's an issue that got my attention just this morning.

The photo above is a screen-grab from the Go Pro camera footage shot by a Mr. Ryan McAvoy as he paddled over Looking Glass Falls in western North Carolina.  The photo is featured in an opinion piece by John Boyle for the Asheville Watchdog news website.  I saw it when my friend Cathy shared it on Face Book this morning.  The site has also posted the full video of McAvoy's descent.  You can read it here.

Mr. Boyle's piece addresses an issue that I've thought about often in my 40-plus-year paddling career: is it irresponsible to paddle a boat over something like Looking Glass Falls?  Mr. McAvoy's feat has attracted quite a bit of attention on social media, much of it critical; the main thrust of the critics' arguments is that when such an adventure goes sideways it can require a response from publicly-funded emergency personnel, who then might find their own safety at risk.

The thing is, paddlers are regularly running drops that are even more dangerous than Looking Glass.  So why has this particular event drawn so much flak?

Certainly, a big part of the reason has to be that Looking Glass Falls is one of the best-known waterfalls in the eastern United States.  I think I saw it for the first time on a family vacation when I was younger than 10 years old, and I became very familiar with it once I started attending summer camp in the nearby town of Brevard.  The falls is located right alongside U.S. 276 near the heavily-used entrance to Pisgah National Forest just outside Brevard, and there's a parking area right there with a balcony from which to view the falls.  I would guess that hundreds of thousands of tourists lay eyes on Looking Glass Falls each year.

Many of these tourists probably don't see a lot of waterfalls more formidable than Looking Glass, because such falls are farther off the beaten path.  So in their minds, paddling a kayak off Looking Glass is right up there with the most reckless things a human being can do.  Here in my hometown of Memphis, Tennessee, where there aren't any waterfalls, I'm occasionally accused of being certifiably insane for paddling my boat on the Mississippi River or even just in the harbor.  I expect the people who make such accusations are unfamiliar with rivers and with paddlesports, and they simply can't imagine a crazier thing for somebody to do.  It doesn't help that there are a number of silly myths swirling around our mighty river: even some of the smarter, more thoughtful people I know believe that there are randomly-occurring whirlpools all over the Mississippi that will suck a poor hapless guy like me down into a watery grave.  (There are not.)

The only way I know to respond to such criticism is to be as responsible as I can and set the best example I can.  Of course that includes having my PFD and other sound safety equipment when I'm out on the river, and more importantly, being as skilled as I can be.  I practice self rescues often, and I also work on skills that help me avoid the need for rescue in the first place.  And I try to educate family and friends and anybody else who will listen as to what our sport is about.  It's a big part of the motivation behind this blog, as well as the movie I made a couple of years ago.

It appears that Mr. McAvoy is of the same mind.  Not only did he study Looking Glass Falls at length before making his run, but also he waited for a day when the conditions were most favorable, and he had his own support team in place.  The worst thing you can call a dedicated paddler is a daredevil or a thrill-seeker or an adrenaline junkie, and McAvoy makes that point in his response to the online criticism.

I encourage everybody to read Mr. Boyle's piece in its entirety.  I don't have anything more profound to say than what I've already said, but this is an issue that you learn to live with when you take up paddling or any other sport that has a wilderness adventure aspect to it.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Fun in the future, uncertainty in the present

This past week I made a couple of Internet transactions relevant to this blog.  One of them was to sign up for the annual "Battle On The Bayou" canoe and kayak race on March 23.  It's a 13.7-kilometer (8.5-mile) mostly-flatwater race on Old Fort Bayou at Ocean Springs, Mississippi.  Anybody who'd like to join me down there can register here.

The other thing I did was submit an application for a permit to paddle the Colorado River through Grand Canyon in the summer of 2025.  Yes, that's a long way off, and as of now I have given absolutely no thought to equipment I'll need or food I'll need or who will accompany me on the trip (the permit specifies up to 16 people).  Right now I'm just hoping to get a permit.  If I'm successful, there will be plenty of time to get my whole plan in order.

The race in Ocean Springs is definitely the more immediate concern, being just seven weeks off.  I'm spending a bit more time in the boat now, and pretty soon I'll have to get some workouts going.  On Saturday I took advantage of a 21.6-foot Memphis gauge reading to visit some places I couldn't paddle to when the river was low.  I paddled over to the Arkansas side and went up the outflow channel from Dacus Lake until a mass of floating wood blocked my path.  Then I paddled a short distance up into the Loosahatchie Chute before heading back to the harbor.  It was a nice sunny morning, warmer than 60 degrees Fahrenheit, and I tried my best to enjoy it, but the truth was I was feeling tense in the boat.  There was a lot of barge traffic on the river that made things turbulent, and even though the weather was nice I really didn't want to go for a swim in that cold water.

Normally I would have gone back to the river yesterday, but with nearly constant rain falling all day long, I opted to stay in and focus on non-athletic obligations.  I did at least make time to do some full-body stretching and some rotation drills with a broom handle across my shoulders.

The sun was shining again this morning, so I went down to the river and did a calm session in the harbor, trying my best to stay relaxed and rotate at the hips.  This is something for which I really could use the help of an in-person coach.  While I know the general outline of what I'm supposed to be doing in my boat, I'm having a hard time knowing whether I'm really doing it the way I should.  I need somebody to slap my wrist when I get it wrong and offer reinforcement when I get it right.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Drills continue in nicer weather

Once we emerged from the deep freeze early last week, the rest of the week was overcast and rainy.  The Memphis area got some six inches of rain during the course of the week.  So I was pleased to have a sunny day for paddling at last on Tuesday.  I spent 60 minutes doing more work on hip rotation.

Before paddling Tuesday I did a gym session: more Hindu squats and core exercises on the stability ball, plus some rotation drills sitting on the floor with a broomstick across my shoulders.

One nice thing about all that rain that moved through this area is that it also fell higher up in the watershed, and the Mississippi River is rising fast.  It was about 16.5 feet on the Memphis gauge when I paddled on Tuesday, and the current forecast says it will crest close to 24 feet early next week.

Skies were clear at dawn this morning, but it was getting cloudy-ish by the time I made it down to the river.  The Fahrenheit temperature was climbing from the low 30s toward a high around 60 degrees.  The river was flowing at about 19.7 feet.  I did a loop out on the main river, and this time I threw in some surges and tried to keep up good hip rotation at a higher intensity level on less-stable water.

It's nice to have January in the rearview mirror, but some years the weather here in February has been awful, so I'm trying not to get too used to this warm spell we're having.  Around here one can count on plenty of chilly weather throughout February and March and sometimes even into April.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Monday photo feature

This is where I was exactly two years ago: lounging in the Fish Hoek Beach Sports Club on the Western Cape of South Africa.  Seated at right are our two coaches for Downwind Camp, Jasper Mocke (red cap) and his brother Dawid.  That's me in the upper left corner, with fellow campers Moses (lower left), Ezra (foreground), and Donald (orange shirt).  I'm guessing we've just gotten back in from paddling out on False Bay.  It's the middle of summer there and the weather is deliciously warm.  Carefree times, indeed.

There's another Downwind Camp going on there this week, and several of my racing friends from the southeastern U.S. are participating.  They include Chris Hipgrave, whom I saw down in Florida several weeks ago, and Alessia Faverio and Cam Thacker, who have attended the Florida training camp in the past but didn't this year because they were saving money for the South Africa trip.  They're now posting about their trip on social media, and I'm feeling all jealous.  Don't you just love the way social media makes you feel?  Oh well... hopefully one day I'll return to Fish Hoek or some similarly awesome place, and people can get all jealous of me.  So there.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Toiling away in offseason obscurity

The never-ending frigid spell finally ended last Sunday when the temperature rose above freezing to stay.  By Monday it was up around 50 degrees Fahrenheit.  50 degrees never felt so warm.

On Tuesday I got in the boat for the first time in ten days.  I stayed in the harbor and did another round of work on my hip rotation.  I paddled for 60 minutes, and was reminded of how hard it is to focus on one mechanical aspect for that long.  But I really would like to get more comfortable with this change.  Rotating down at my hips should take stress off my arms and shoulders, where, as regular readers know, I've had a lot of discomfort for the last several years.

Before going to the river Tuesday I did a couple of sets of the exercises I've been doing lately--Hindu squats and core exercises on the stability ball.  I was still feeling sore from having started these exercises the previous week, especially in my abs and quads.  It was as stubborn an episode of soreness as I can remember.

I paddled another 60 minutes Friday, and again yesterday.  The theme remained the same as I focused on just one thing, how my body was moving in the boat.  I didn't worry about how fast I was going or what energy system I was working or any of that stuff.

And that's pretty much it for where I am these days.  Not a whole lot of excitement.  My first race of the year will probably be March 23 at Ocean Springs, but my mind isn't really in competitive mode these days.  I just want to paddle the best I can, and be ready to perform well whether it's in a race or in some more recreational undertaking.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Monday photo feature

I don't have any particularly profound regrets in this life, but I am kind of sorry that I never had an opportunity to get into cross country skiing.  The snow that fell here in the Mid South a week ago was powdery and not too wet, and I'm pretty sure it was ideal for that activity.  Once the streets had been driven on just enough for the snow to get packed down a bit, as in the photo above, we had a whole network of groomed ski trails.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Shut down, to some extent

It's been a frigid week here in the Mid South.  Since last Sunday the temperature has risen above freezing for just a few hours, and it's spent quite a bit of time in the single digits on the Fahrenheit thermometer.  The snow that fell Sunday and Monday has had little chance to melt, and the melting that has occurred has re-frozen, making the streets even more treacherous than they were earlier in the week.

I've spent most of the week indoors being utterly unproductive.  While I have a project to work on in the woodworking shop, it's at a point where I need to go out and get some more material, and I just don't want to be out driving right now.  I'm trying (and mostly failing) to persuade myself to knock out some tax-filing and other paperwork chores.  Meanwhile, I've been binge-watching some television.  I normally watch very little TV, but my housemates down in Florida got me hooked on the "Ted Lasso" series, and now I'm using the seven-day free trial period offered by Apple Tee Vee Plus to watch all 34 episodes.  Just one of the little ways in which I stick it to The Man.

It's hard not to consider it a lost week in terms of canoe and kayak training.  Even if I were feeling plucky enough to go paddle in this weather, it's been cold enough that there's a fair chance the harbor has been iced over (I haven't been down there to check).  The same is true for bike riding: I'm even less inclined to do that in cold weather than paddle, and the whole landscape is covered in ice anyway.  I have managed to do a decent amount of stretching, including the new hip stretches I started doing last weekend; I've also started doing a couple of core exercises on the stability ball and some Hindu squats, along with some rotation drills in which I'm trying my best to twist my rear end against the floor, just like I need to be doing in my boat.

So I haven't completely wasted the week... I haven't made any cardiovascular gains to speak of, but I've made some effort in the tedious process of technical adjustment.  I admit that it would have been nice to have an erg machine for this work.  I've resisted getting one because most of the time we have liquid water to paddle on here, and even when it's cold I prefer that to the mind-numbing repetition of erg work.  But when intensive focus on mechanics is necessary, it's better to do it in a warm, comfortable environment, and it sure would be nice to have an erg for that.

The last blast of Arctic air was last night and this morning... for now, at least.  This coming week the temperature is supposed to rise as high as 60 degrees, albeit with some rain.  I hope to be back in the boat soon.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Monday photo feature

The first few times I ran Bull Sluice rapid on the Chattooga River, it was in a Blue Hole "OCA" canoe that could be paddled either tandem or solo.  The camp I went to had a rule against campers running the rapid, and so the counselors would paddle all six of the camp's canoes through the formidable whitewater maelstrom.  My first summer as a counselor was in 1985, and that's when I made my first run of the rapid.

This photo was shot by Todd Tyler in 1987.  The river is flowing somewhere around 1.3 or 1.4 feet on the U.S. 76 bridge gauge.  Though I prefer to paddle on the left in a whitewater canoe, here I'm paddling on the right because at the time I thought I would need a brace on that side as I went over the main drop.  As my paddling skills improved in the years since then, I realized that paddling on the left works just fine.

The Chattooga River is born in the mountains near Highlands, North Carolina, and flows in a southeasterly direction.  It leaves North Carolina and forms the border between South Carolina and Georgia.  At its confluence with the Tallulah River, it becomes the Tugaloo River; farther downstream, below Hartwell Reservoir, it becomes the Savannah River for the rest of its journey to the Atlantic Ocean.

Bull Sluice is located just upstream of the U.S. 76 bridge that crosses the Georgia-South Carolina state line.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Letting the weather be my coach

After checking out of the rental house in Dunellon last Sunday, I drove a couple of hours south to Tampa, where I visited my friend Jonathan who moved there from Memphis last summer.  Jonathan has taken up sailing and we hoped to get out on his boat, but the weather didn't cooperate.  We had a good visit just the same.

I began the trip home Tuesday morning.  As I departed the Tampa Bay area, violent thunderstorms were moving across Alabama and into the Florida panhandle.  By the time I had turned west on Interstate 10, the wind was making driving difficult: I was afraid my boat would blow off the car and take the roof racks and bicycle with it.  So I got off at an exit and waited for the worst of the storm to pass through.  Having checked the radar that morning, I knew the squall line was narrow and wouldn't stick around for long, but I also knew it would be accompanied by heavy rain and stronger winds.  It didn't disappoint.  Once I was back on the road moving west toward Tallahassee, I saw two overturned semi trucks and quite a few billboards whose ads had been torn off.

I spent Tuesday night in central Alabama, and arrived home a little after noon on Wednesday.  I found myself dealing with a ceiling-high stack of chores that had accumulated while I was away.  On Thursday morning I was feeling swamped with work, not to mention tired from my travels, and going out paddling was the last thing I felt like doing.  But the weather outside was lovely, and a look at the forecast revealed that Thursday would be the last pleasant day for quite a while.  So I dragged myself down to the riverfront for a 60-minute paddle in the harbor.

I sprayed some protectant wax in my seat bucket to provide some lubrication for my hip rotation, and off I went.  I tried hard to use my legs to generate the rotation, and I felt about as awkward as I'd felt down in Florida.  I also felt slow.  It was somewhat breezy and hard to get an accurate idea of how fast I should be moving the boat, and I also had a feeling I shouldn't even worry about speed while making a technical adjustment.  But it was hard not to notice that my speed was down a bit.

By the time I finished I was glad I'd paddled just the same.  I think by encouraging my body to relax, I also relaxed my brain a bit and felt less stressed over all the things I have to do.

Heavy rain moved across the area Friday, and strong wind came behind that front bringing colder air with it.  It was definitely a day to stay inside.  I got online and looked at some yoga exercises that are supposed to "open up" one's hips; when I tried them myself I couldn't do them nearly as well as the people demonstrating them in the online videos, but there's no reason I can't incorporate them into my stretching routine and see if I can get more comfortable with them.  With miserably cold weather expected to settle into this area for most of next week, I'm hoping to come up with a gym routine that includes some kind of hip-rotation drills.

The temperature dropped to around 25 degrees Fahrenheit overnight, but by the time I got up yesterday morning the sun was out and the wind had died down.  Even though it was some 20 degrees colder than when I'd paddled on Thursday, I decided it was tolerable enough to get one more paddle in before the much worse weather that's expected to pay us a visit.

All the rain that's fallen here in the last week has also fallen higher up in the watershed, and the Mississippi River is on a big rise.  When I got down there yesterday morning the level was at 3.6 feet on the Memphis gauge--the first above-zero level I've seen since I can't remember when.  And it's coming up fast: it was a foot higher by yesterday afternoon, and the current forecast says it'll be up to almost 16 feet by next weekend.

I paddled for another 60 minutes yesterday, doing more hip-rotation work.  Waxing my seat bucket definitely makes it a bit easier than it felt down in Florida.  There were moments when I felt myself getting more comfortable with it, but much of the time it still felt awkward.

I'm glad I got it in, at least, because I doubt much paddling will take place for the next week.  As I write this on Sunday afternoon, it's snowing and 14 degrees Fahrenheit (-10 degrees Celsius) in Memphis.  According to the current forecast, Thursday is the only day this week that will have a high temperature above freezing, and that'll be 36 degrees with rain and freezing rain.  I've paddled in worse conditions, but at this point in my life I kind of feel like I've paid my dues in that department.

Mostly, I'll be looking to do some indoor exercise.  Like I said, I hope to draw up a gym routine that includes some hip rotation.  Today I just did some full-body stretching, including those "hip-opening" yoga movements.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Monday photo feature

I suppose we could call this an updated version of the photo I posted last Monday.  It was shot by Vadim Lishchuk of Newtown, Pennsylvania, who joined us for some of our workouts last week.  This was a chilly Wednesday morning on the foggy Rainbow River.  Paddling the K2 on the left are Royal McDonnell of Lake Placid, New York, and Steph Schell of Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania.  That's me in the middle, and to my right is Chris Hipgrave of Bryson City, North Carolina.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

Camp winds down with a time trial

Yesterday morning we said goodbye to Steph and Chris N., who were anxious to get back to Pennsylvania as much ahead of the winter storm that's headed toward the eastern seaboard as they possibly could.

The rest of us took the morning off from paddling while a system of heavy wind and rain moved through the area.  By lunchtime the rain had moved out, and later in the afternoon Chris H., Royal, and I met a few other paddlers at the Blue Run access on the Rainbow River for our time trial, in which we would paddle up the Rainbow from the Route 484 bridge to the KP Hole public access.  Normally we would go downriver for a time trial, but the forecast indicated stiff headwinds for downstream paddlers yesterday.

Meanwhile, there was a Strava record for our 484-to-KP course: 29 minutes, 22 seconds by Robert Norman of the Tampa Bay area.  I don't do Strava myself, but Chris H. and Royal do, and they were keen on taking a shot at that record.

But that was their worry.  I was just hoping for a respectable effort after a taxing, sometimes demoralizing week of training.  After some warmup time I decided to get on with it.  I lined up at the downstream edge of the bridge, started my watch, and took off.

I knew the distance up to KP Hole was somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 kilometers, and as I paddled upriver I saw that I was moving the boat around 10 kilometers per hour--sometimes above, sometimes below depending on how well I chose my lines to avoid the strongest downstream current.  Every now and then I would hit a patch of shallow water and my speed would plummet below 7 kph, but other times I would pick a good line and cruise along close to 11 kph.

I wouldn't say I was feeling "good," exactly; I was quite stiff and sore from the workouts we had done on Friday.  But I was comfortable with the intensity level and never doubted that I could sustain it all the way to the finish.  I aimed for 80 strokes per minute.  Eventually the KP Hole facility came into view and I bore down for a strong finish.  I paddled up to the upstream edge of the KP Hole property and stopped my watch at 33 minutes, 50 seconds.  My G.P.S. device measured my distance paddled at 5.66 kilometers.

Chris and Royal and I paddled together back down to the Blue Run access.  There Royal uploaded his effort to Strava, and we learned that he was the new record holder for this course.  His official time was 28:17.  Chris also finished under the old Strava record with a time of 29:01.  I, meanwhile, was satisfied with my result, so the mood was upbeat as we loaded our boats in the parking lot.

This morning I went back to the river for a recovery paddle.  I headed downstream toward the Withlacoochee River, which I'd never really checked out before.  I paddled down past where the U.S. 41 bridge crosses it, then back up to where the Withlacoochee State Trail crosses it.  It's definitely different from the Rainbow: the Rainbow is crystal clear, while the water is tannin-stained on the Withlacoochee; the Withlacoochee also has quite a few algae blooms on it.  But I thought the Withlacoochee was pretty enough, especially once I got away from the built-up banks right near the U.S. 41 bridge.

I tried to focus on my rotation, though I was tired and sore from yesterday and my thoughts were wandering about.  But it was a pleasant sunny morning, and I saw an otter right as I was getting back to the Blue Run access ramp, so all told it was a successful paddle.

Well, that concludes the Rainbow River camp for this year.  I have to check out of the rental house soon.

For more information on what this blog is about, click here.

All bent out of shape over my mechanics

Yesterday morning's session was four 19-minute pieces with a one-minute break in between.  The prescribed stroke rate was 60 strokes per minute for the first, 66 spm for the second, 72 spm for the third, and 60 spm for the fourth.

It was my first time in the boat since my discussion with Chris N. about my "false rotation."  Basically, the problem is that I've been doing all my rotation in my upper torso rather than down in the hips where the connection with your leg power takes place.  Per Chris's instruction, I moved my footboard forward (away from me) one notch so I could get my legs a bit straighter on each leg drive.  I also talked to Royal, who had his own "false rotation" issue a year ago and spent the ensuing months working on it, and he told me he looks for the sensation of twisting his rear end against the seat.  The most helpful tip he gave me was to try to move my backside across the back of the seat bucket instead of straight into it.

So that was what I spent yesterday morning working on more than anything else.  And it felt terrible, as if I were completely re-learning how to paddle.  I definitely sacrificed some speed: when paddling downstream it was all I could do to maintain 12 kilometers per hour.  But I resolved to put all such worries out of my mind for the moment and focus exclusively on that twisting motion.  This will definitely take some time: Royal told me it was a couple of months before he really felt like he was getting the hang of it.

The afternoon workout yesterday was a pyramid of sprints with long recoveries, to make our bodies produce lactic acid and then flush it out before the next sprint.  The sprints were 10 seconds, 15 seconds, 20 seconds, 30 seconds, 45 seconds, 30 seconds, 20 seconds, 15 seconds, and 10 seconds; the recovery times were 2 minutes, 3 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 minutes, 5 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 3 minutes.

Chris N. told me not to worry about my new rotation challenge during the sprints, but I worked on it during the warmup and the cool-down.  And it felt just as terrible as it had in the morning, if not worse.  By the end of the session I was tired and frustrated, and the idea of spending the rest of this winter toiling through mechanical issues all alone in the harbor back home is just not getting my juices flowing right now.

This morning we did two sets of (4 minutes on, 1 minute off) at 60-64 spm.  We did the first set with light resistance on the boat and the second set without.  This actually was a good workout for working on hip rotation because of the resistance that killed glide and thus increased blade pressure, but I didn't feel any better that I did yesterday.  Part of the problem was that I'd left my shoes back at the house and had to paddle barefoot, which I hate doing in a surfski.  Chris N. suggested I do some yoga to open up my hips more; I'll look into that when I get home.

We wrapped up today with some varied-pace training, sort of like what happens when you're trading wake rides with other competitors in a race.  It was two sets of five times (3 min. at 60 spm and 2 min. at 75 spm).  I continued to struggle with rotation but got through the workout decently enough.  All that's left is a time trial tomorrow and another workout Sunday morning, and then I'll have some time to regroup and try to figure out how to recapture my paddling self-esteem.

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Florida training camp continues

Monday was a rest day, and we "rested" by riding our bikes down the Withlacoochee State Trail for 21 miles to the town of Inverness, and then riding back.  42 miles is nearly twice as long as the longest ride I regularly do at home, but we kept the pace reasonable and it was actually a nice relaxing "active" recovery.  Also, in Inverness we took the time to enjoy a leisurely lunch at a good diner.

The weather hasn't exactly been what one expects down in sunny Florida.  The daily Fahrenheit highs have been just in the 60s, often with a chilly breeze.  The overnight lows have been down around 40, and it's typically still in the 40s during our morning paddling sessions.  I think the El Niño weather pattern is largely to blame.  But I'm pretty sure it's still nicer than what any of us would be dealing with back home right now.  Back in Memphis the highs are mostly in the 40s this week, with some overnight lows in the 20s; I expect it's about the same in western North Carolina, where Chris Hipgrave and his wife Trish live.  Chris Norbury and Steph Schell hail from Pennsylvania, where the forecast is calling for heavy snow later this week, and Royal McDonnell is from Lake Placid, New York... the Adirondacks, for crying out loud.  I think we're doing just fine down here in Florida.

Yesterday morning we went out and did a "calm" 75-minute paddle.  It was a wake-up session in advance of a much tougher afternoon workout: three 8-minute pieces at 80-88 strokes per minute, or, as Chris H. explained, race pace for a 10-kilometer race.  We had 8 minutes recovery time in between.  My stroke rate for a 10K race is not much more than 80, so that's where I tried to keep it during the three pieces.  The workout was definitely hard, but nowhere near the worst I'd ever hurt.

I actually thought this morning's workout was harder, or at least more of a grind.  We did four sets of (6 min. at 56 spm, 4 min. at 60 spm, 3 min. at 64 spm, and 2 min. at 68 spm).  The first two sets were upriver, and Chris H., Steph/Royal (paddling tandem), and special guest Vadim Lishchuk opened a big lead on me during that period.  We got back together on the trip back downriver, and I tried very hard to stay with them in the second pair of sets.  I didn't entirely succeed, but I did a better job than on the upstream leg.  I put all the power into each stroke that I possibly could, and my muscles were feeling it by the end of the workout.

Before the workout I'd issued a blanket request for feedback on my stroke form, and Chris N., who's done his share of coaching over the years, took me up on it.  He told me that I was "false rotating"--while my leg drive was good, all it was doing was pushing my pelvic region into the back of the seat bucket rather than generating genuine rotation of the hips.  I was disheartened to hear this because it's exactly what I was paying a lot of attention to during my paddling sessions at home all fall, and I thought I was doing a decent job.  But at home I don't have other pairs of eyes on me, and in a technical sport like ours what you think you're doing in your boat and what you're actually doing are not always the same thing.  Chris gave me a couple of suggestions for my next time in the boat, and I guess I'll just keep trying to get it right for the rest of our camp and beyond.

We had the afternoon off to do whatever we felt like.  I went out for an easy 40-minute bike ride.

Back at the house we're renting, the party simply never stops.  There's no telling what sort of trouble the people I'm staying with might get into when left to their own devices:

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Monday photo feature

I'm attending winter training camp in Florida for the third time.  I came here last year, and two years before that.  The picture above is from my first camp: that's me in the blue shirt; to my left is Chris Hipgrave of Bryson City, North Carolina.  To my right are Alessia Faverio of Asheville, North Carolina, and Terry Smith of Chattanooga, Tennessee.  We're about to start a workout on the lovely Rainbow River near the town of Dunellon.

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Winter camp!

After a couple of weeks out of the boat due to holiday travel and various preoccupations, I'm shocking my body back into a more serious training mode at a camp in sunny Florida.

I left home Friday morning and arrived yesterday afternoon at the Rainbow River, a lovely spring-fed stream that flows through the town of Dunellon just above its confluence with the Withlacoochee River.  A few friends--Steph Schell, Royal McDonnell, Chris Norbury, Chris Hipgrave--had been here several days already and were doing a time trial from KP Hole to the Route 484 bridge.  Not ready for that kind of stress, I put in at the bridge and paddled upstream until I saw these athletes coming down, and I followed them back to the finish.

Yesterday was more substantial.  In the morning was a long (100-120 min.) session at a "conversational" pace, which is to say that it was supposed to be a good solid training paddle, but not at such high intensity that you couldn't chat with your companions.  I spent most of it alongside Chris H. and Royal, and I had to work pretty hard to keep pace with them.  I tried to take good strokes and keep the stroke rate in a reasonable range, and not exceed that "conversational" pace.  We paddled from the Route 484 bridge up to Rainbow Springs and back; in the last mile back to the bridge my form was sort of falling apart and I fell off the pace, so I concluded my paddle at an even 100 minutes.

Yesterday afternoon we did a power-building workout: six times (2 min. on/1 min. off at 50 strokes per minute and 3 min. on/1 min. off at 60 spm).  Both cadences are quite low, but 60 spm felt really fast after doing 50 spm.

After the two-week break from paddling my arms had felt as good as they'd felt in a long time.  But now they're sore again, especially my forearms.  I've got a couple of blisters on my left middle finger, too.  Tomorrow is a scheduled day off, and I'm as grateful for it as anybody even though I just got here.  There are some tough days coming up this week and I hope a day will be enough for me to regroup.

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Monday photo feature

As I was leaving the riverfront yesterday I saw this barge rig carrying a load of wind turbine blades up the Mississippi.  It was the first time I'd seen this particular cargo out there.

I think most of the barges I see on the river are carrying agricultural products--grains, primarily.  That's the biggest economic impact of extreme low-water periods like the one we're having this fall: it's more difficult for farmers to get their harvests to market.

Products of the sand and gravel industry--piles of rock, Portland cement, stuff like that--are a common sight on barges.  I also see a lot of coal being shipped by barge, though maybe not as much as I once did now that TVA's Allen Fossil Plant downstream of downtown Memphis has been converted to natural gas.  Sometimes I see barges that appear to contain some variety of fuel in liquid or gas form.

But that's about it for what I routinely see being shipped out on the river.  So it was interesting to see something new yesterday.

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Staying in motion, if only just barely

I suppose my life wouldn't be complete without some aches and pains, and not to worry: I've got some.  That discomfort in my right collarbone that I mentioned a couple of weeks ago is still present; it just so happened that I had my annual physical scheduled for this past Wednesday, so I mentioned it to my doctor and she ordered an X-ray.  Fortunately the bone came out looking just fine.  The doctor said it could be just a bruise, or even a weird virus that she's heard is going around that causes such pains.  Or maybe it's just the latest manifestation of my impinged nerves.

Meanwhile, my left hip flexor has been bothering me as well.  I started noticing it during one of my runs the week before last, and after I ran last Wednesday it seemed to feel worse.  My original plan was to run again on Friday, but I decided to skip it and see if the extra rest made any difference.  As of this writing it's still hurting about the same.  It sure seems that whoever controls the universe simply doesn't want me to run.

So I'm feeling pretty beat up these days.  I guess the bright side is that right now I'm still just maintaining some general fitness and don't have anything on the horizon that I need to be in top competitive shape for.  And at least I can still paddle without any severe discomfort.  That's what I did yesterday and today.  Yesterday it was overcast with a chilly breeze, and I felt sort of sluggish in the boat.  I basically just got in my hour... punched the clock, as it were.  I felt better today, and I expect having some sunshine had something to do with that, though it was still breezy and chilly.

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If you want it, attain it!

"Attainment" is a paddling term for moving one's boat upriver, against the current.  On a slow-moving Class I river, attaining is as simple as paddling upstream faster than the current is carrying you downstream.  As the degree of whitewater complexity rises, you might have to seek help from features in the river to get your boat upstream: hopping from one eddy to another, for instance, or surfing a wave that slants upstream.

I come from a whitewater background, and I've always enjoyed looking for clever ways to move upstream in a rapid.  Attainment is also a great exercise for developing fitness, technical efficiency, balance and control, and a deeper understanding of whitewater features and how they can help you get your boat from one spot in the river to another.

As I moved more into boats designed for flatwater and open-water paddling, I found that my attaining skills often came in handy when paddling those boats out on the Mississippi River.  Again, it's typically a matter of paddling upstream faster than the current is flowing downstream, but sometimes little things like stroke timing and angle of approach matter, too.

One old slalom racing friend of mine recently created a group on Face Book dedicated to attainment, and he invited group members to share their thoughts and their videos on the topic.  I knew right then I had to make a short film about attainment out on my home river.  You can now view it below.  I threw in a few cinematic tropes just for fun, but I hope the viewer ultimately will appreciate the important role attainment plays in the life of a paddler.

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