Pushing through the latest Arctic blast

Yesterday I did an hour of mostly-steady paddling in the harbor.  My right arm continued to feel not so bad in the wake of the workout I'd done on Thursday.  Go figure.

As predicted, the temperature plummeted overnight last night, and as I drove downtown this morning the temperature display in my car said it was 23 degrees Fahrenheit.  The sun was shining, and that made it seem better, but there was also a stiff north wind blowing, and that made it seem worse.  I went to the same part of the Greenbelt Park, maybe two-thirds of the way from the Hernando DeSoto Bridge to the mouth of the Wolf River, and did my dry-land routine with nearly thirty degrees less warmth than I'd had on Friday.  That gave me plenty of motivation to keep moving from one exercise to the next.

I've been saying frequently that I pay close attention to stroke mechanics when I'm in the boat, but the same is true when I do cross-training activities like I did today.  I try to keep my body relaxed and practice good form in both the running and the core exercises.  In The Barton Mold by Bill Endicott, Greg Barton has this to say about his observance of good technique in strength training:

I feel that if you start cheating, really jerking around a lot, there are two things that happen.  One is you're starting to pull into play muscles other than the ones you are targeting.  Secondly, what happens when you get into the boat?  Are you going to start jerking around there, too?  Start pulling all over the place?  I think some of that carries over.  If you use strict technique in the weight room, you're thinking in that mode and it's a little easier to transfer that into the boat.  I think people who bang out as much as they can in the weight room tend to paddle that way, too.

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I've got a pretty good routine going

It's been mostly an encouraging week so far.  I've been doing a mixture of paddling and dry-land workouts and my body has responded pretty well.  It hasn't hurt that the weather has finally improved in recent days.

I paddled Monday and yesterday.  Yesterday I pushed the intensity with twelve 30-second sprints starting every third minute.  I could feel the pain in my upper right arm during each sprint, but it weathered the stress, and for the rest of the day it actually felt about as good as it had in months.  I'll continue to tread carefully and try not to give it more stress than it can withstand.

On the days I paddle, I've also been doing sets of Hindu squats.  I started with 60 squats per set a few weeks ago, and since then I've been adding two per set each time.  I'm currently in the high 80s and plan to make it to 100 before changing to some other leg exercise.

On Tuesday and yesterday I did my dry-land routine in the Greenbelt Park alongside the Mississippi River.  I start with a run of maybe 1200 meters, followed by a few core exercises interspersed with sprints up the steep slope from the park's main tier to the lot where I park my car.  Then I do about an 800-meter run, repeat the core exercises and uphill sprints, and finish with the 1200-ish-meter run.  The whole session takes me around 40 minutes, and I try to move quickly from one exercise to the next and keep my heart rate up.  I almost always feel good when it's over.

I think we've got one more warm-ish day, and then cold weather returns.  The forecast is saying that the high on Sunday will be 26 degrees Fahrenheit.  The sort of weather that separates the champions from the rest, supposedly.

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Monday photo feature

Here's a shot from January of 2022.  It's a screen-grab of footage from Dawid Mocke's Go Pro camera out on the famous Miller's Run offshore from Simon's Town, Cape Town, South Africa.  That would be me there, trying to catch a swell with the Roman Rock lighthouse in the background.

This photo sums up my motivation to keep moving in these not-so-pleasant days of late fall here in the Mid South United States.  In a little over six weeks I'll be back in the setting of this image, and I hope my body will be ready to perform to my satisfaction.

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Persistence

Well, it's been just about a month since my last post here.

Lately the weather has been a challenge: this past week has given us mostly cloudy skies, Fahrenheit temperatures mostly in the 30s, and bitter north winds.

What's more, my right biceps area has continued to bother me.  The bright side is that I do seem able to paddle with it: in recent days I've gingerly pushed the intensity, and it has responded well.  But it rears its head in my out-of-the-boat life at random times, when I move my arm just the wrong way.  A couple of times I've gotten a sharp stab of pain while putting a shirt on, for example.

Maybe I should be seeking some medical attention for this ailment, but besides my general dislike of dealing with modern-day corporate doctors' offices, I'm skeptical that I can do so quickly enough to initiate an effective physical therapy regimen before I leave for South Africa in about six weeks.  Maybe I'll change my mind in another day or two, but for now I'm following the example of that baseball player who plays through a nagging ailment for the last couple of months of the season before getting it fixed more permanently in the offseason.

In any case, I've been working out both in and out of the boat, albeit at a very modest volume.  To view the situation in the most positive light possible, I've been reflecting on my best assets as an athlete:

1.  I've always been good at showing up, even when my heart is not a hundred percent into the idea of training and it would be very easy to skip a session.  When a day arrives and I have a session planned, and the weather is sort of lousy like it's been this past week, I almost always make myself go get in the boat (or do whatever else I've got planned) anyway, and "put something on the board," as it were.  More often than not, once my workout is underway, I embrace the task and put in a good honest effort.

2.  I'm consistent with everything I do.  Nothing I do is a one-off.  Sometimes I might rearrange my schedule of workouts based on the weather forecast, but I never, say, do an indoor jump-rope session because it's raining outside and then never do any jump-roping again.  When I choose a particular exercise, I make it a regular part of my routine for an extended period so that my body can adapt to it fully.  My body needs to know that each exercise is part of "its job" for as long as that exercise is part of my routine.

3.  My sessions are always good quality.  I make them count.  Like I said above, my training volume has been fairly low lately, partly because of my muscular woes and partly because I've had a lot going on in my non-athletic life.  In November most of my paddling sessions were just 40 minutes, and my gym work and other dry-land workouts haven't been particularly daunting.  But every time I do something, I do it well.  In the boat I don't just drift around; I pay close attention to my stroke mechanics and my cadence and my intensity.  The same goes for all the other work: I give a good honest effort with a lot of attention to technique.

4.  I set goals for myself.  In the last several years I haven't been racing as seriously, and so my goals have been perhaps not so clearly defined; but they're there nevertheless.  For much of this past year, my goal was simply to achieve a good solid fitness level for my trip through the Grand Canyon.  I'm now seeking the same for my trip to South Africa, albeit with a few more intense workouts thrown in.  As I move inexorably into old age, my focus will be more and more on general fitness with the hope that I can keep feeling good and performing mundane tasks.

So... there you go.  I wish I could tell you I'm putting myself through rigorous workouts and feeling "in the zone" and all that, but at the moment that's not really the case.  I'm doing the best I can, however, and I hope that sticking with it will lead me to some good things down the road.

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Monday photo feature

The deer population seems to be thriving in the wooded bottoms of the Wolf River over on the east side of Memphis.  I've been seeing lots of them while riding my bike through that area on the Greater Memphis Greenline and the Wolf River Greenway this year.  This past Friday I shot this photo of this guy snacking on leaves on the river-left bank of the Wolf.  I was looking down at him from up on the trestle by which the Greenline crosses the river.

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Persistent pain

I'm becoming increasingly concerned about the pain in my right biceps muscle.  I was hoping I'd just strained it a little and it would improve over time, but in the last couple of weeks it seems to have gotten worse, not better.  It's been bothering me in every aspect of my non-athletic life; several times a day I make some seemingly harmless movement that causes pain to shoot through the ailing area.  And while I don't think it's directly involved in my paddle strokes, it does bother me while I paddle, and it's making me scale back my time in the boat for now.

Meanwhile, there's still my shingles rash, which is fading away ever so slowly... eeeeeever sooooooo sloooooowly.  These viral maladies do funny things sometimes, and this one seems to want to hang around.  There's still some itching, but I don't think it's nearly as bad as it was a week ago.

We enjoyed some pleasant weather here for most of the last week, and I took advantage of that with a couple of bike rides plus some paddling on Monday, Thursday, and yesterday.  Because of the arm injury I'm keeping my paddling sessions around 40 minutes or so and just working on stroke mechanics in the harbor.

Today we're getting a little Arctic blast: we'll be lucky if the temperature reaches 50 degrees Fahrenheit.  It's supposed to drop into the 20s overnight and be only around 40 degrees tomorrow.  So I might just get some rest for a couple of days, aside from some light gym work.

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Monday photo feature

Kaylin Owens of Cosby, Tennessee, cruises down the Colorado River during our last full day in the Grand Canyon.  This would have been September 10, or Day 15 of our journey.

The last few days of the trip were probably the hottest, and we dealt with a pesky headwind as well.  I remember my body feeling stressed and drained, and all I wanted was to get out of there and back to civilization in all its air-conditioned glory.

But the chilly weather of this past weekend has made me look back on those days with rosier-tinted vision.  When I look at photos like this one now, it's easy to forget the discomforts of multiple days in the wilderness and imagine an idyllic world of whitewater frolic in a sun-drenched canyon paradise.  It's funny how that works.

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I'm not ready to let go of summer

Some chilly weather has arrived, and I've struggled to make the adjustment.  We had a pretty hot summer here in the Mid South, and then I experienced some hot days out there in the Grand Canyon.  After that I came home to find some unseasonably warm temperatures in late September and most of October.  So, this weather we're having now, even though it's not really that cold, has felt like a shock.  It was windy and rainy in the middle of this past week, and that didn't make things any easier.

The good news is that winter isn't here yet; for much of this coming week, the forecast is showing Fahrenheit highs in the high 60s and low 70s.  But this weekend it's awfully chilly for this time of year: today's high is expected to be in the low 50s.

So, I've been rather grateful to have some non-athletic obligations keeping me indoors for much of this weekend.  All I've managed for this past week is some paddling on Monday and Thursday and a bike ride Friday afternoon.  With better weather expected in the coming days, I'll see if I can't ramp up a new fitness routine and get myself on a solid path toward the South Africa trip in late January.

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Monday photo feature

The ICF world championships of ocean racing took place weekend before last at the city of Durban on South Africa's Indian Ocean coast.  Here, Dawid Mocke drags his boat out of the surf for the final sprint to the finish line up on the beach.  Dawid finished ninth overall and first in the men's 45-49 age group.

In a mere three months I'll be in Dawid's hometown of Fish Hoek, over on the Atlantic side of South Africa.  There I'll be coached in downwind paddling techniques by Dawid and his younger brother Jasper, who finished 12th overall and second in the 40-44 age group at Durban.  Hopefully I'll also see Dawid's son Sam, who claimed the junior (under 18) title while finishing 30th overall.

If being around guys like that can't motivate me to do some training in the next three months, then nothing can.

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Colder and darker

Much of October has been unseasonably warm here, but there's little question chillier days are upon us.  Today it's raining and the temperature is expected to exceed 60 degrees Fahrenheit just barely.  And the forecast is showing daytime highs in the 60s and 50s for the foreseeable future.

In the boat the last couple of weeks I've been availing myself of wake surfing opportunities as the air and water temperatures have remained agreeable, but those days may be over for the year.  I did a bit of surfing Tuesday, but by yesterday I was taking a pass on a barge rig that was approaching from below the old bridges downriver from downtown.  On the non-surfing days I've been focusing hard on stroke mechanics, even doing some one-sided paddling drills to try to make the connection between leg drive and torso rotation.  Sessions like that are tedious, but I hope they'll pay off somewhere down the road.

Meanwhile, I'm transitioning into a wintertime fitness program that I hope will have me feeling ready for some downwind action in South Africa.  I did two bike rides this past week, and soon I plan to put together a dry-land routine similar to what I did last winter, with some running and some medicine ball drills and some body-weight leg and core exercises.

In the physical health department, my shingles rash is less red and angry-looking than it used to be, but it's still causing me discomfort.  Lately it's been very itchy, and resisting the urge to scratch is not easy.  Meanwhile, I'm still feeling some pain in the inside of my right biceps muscle.  I mentioned a while back that I think I strained it during the Pink Palace Crafts Fair, probably while swinging an axe, but it's possible that I could trace the injury back into the Grand Canyon, where I might have tweaked it doing a hard open-blade draw stroke in my C1, and the crafts fair activity simply aggravated it.

In any case, in the coming weeks I might have to scale back the paddling a little to see if the muscle will heal, while doing more general-fitness stuff on dry land.

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Monday photo feature

In what now seems like an annual phenomenon, a large portion of my dock is on the ground.  I took this photo while I was down there yesterday morning, when the Mississippi River was flowing at -8.7 feet on the Memphis gauge.

The bright side is that the water is still more than three feet higher than the record low of -12.06 feet that we saw two years ago.  The storm system that came through here Saturday evening stretched well to the north, higher up in the watershed, and while the current forecast isn't showing any rise as a result of that, that rain should at least keep the level somewhat constant for a while, hopefully until some wetter weather moves in.

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Just ambling along

The shingles rash is better than it was a couple of weeks ago, but it's in no hurry to go away entirely.  For all this past week there was a spot of vague pain, and now that's been replaced by an annoying itch.  To repeat what I've been saying since this started, I'm grateful that my case is not as bad as I hear other people's are.  But it's having a negative impact on my mood nevertheless.  Each morning I wake up to find the pain and/or itch hasn't gone away, and I think, "Sigh... one more day of living with this."

I've been fully functional in spite of it, working in my shop, attending to household chores, taking care of my pets, and, of course, paddling my boat.  I've been saying that my plan for this month is to keep things easy, but I had a couple of sessions in the boat last week that were not so easy at all.  The weather continued to be sunny and unseasonably warm, so when opportunities to surf presented themselves, I felt I should go for it.  Both Thursday and yesterday I paddled to the mouth of the harbor to find barge rigs coming upriver from the old bridges south of downtown.  Unlike the rigs I'd seen the week before, these were generating huge waves--so big that I was a little skittish as I paddled out to get on them.  I let the biggest ones get away and settled for a few decent rides on smaller ones.  While doing so I tried to work on my leaning and bracing, though no one ride was long enough for me to feel like I was accomplishing something.  But maybe I was.

Last night a system of thunderstorms moved through, with cooler air behind it.  Today's high temperature stayed below 70 degrees Fahrenheit, and an overnight low below 50 degrees seems likely tonight.  When I went down to the river this morning it was about 62 degrees with a gusty northwest wind blowing.  I stayed in the harbor and allowed myself an easy paddle at last, though "easy" might not be the best term for it.  I focused hard on taking good strokes and linking my upper-body rotation with my leg drive, and after 40 minutes of that I felt plenty taxed.

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Still playing around with that Grand Canyon footage

I've had numerous things keeping me busy, but I'm still finding time to find creative uses for the footage I shot in the Grand Canyon.  The short film above features clips from Days 14, 15, and 16 of the 16-day trip.  That would have been September 9, 10, and 11.

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Monday photo feature

Here's another of the many, many fine photographs Rob Lieb took in the Grand Canyon between August 27 and September 11.  In this one, Kylie Haberman stakes her tent while J.D. Terry inspects the environs of our camping spot.

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Treading water, as it were, as I try to heal

My shingles rash has been showing signs of healing all week, though the progress has been very, very slow.  What were once a bunch of pus-filled hives have dried up and scabbed over, and now I'm waiting as patiently as I can for them to fade away and be replaced by healthy skin, so that I might happily forget they were ever there.

As for pain, it's been mild compared to what I've heard shingles inflicts on many other people.  But I do have one spot, in my lower right ribcage area, that's been bothering me for days.  If this pain were just a little more intense, and covered just a little bit more area of my body, I would probably be flat-out miserable.  Apparently some cases of shingles have symptoms that linger indefinitely, and I hope this painful spot isn't going to be like that for me.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to allow myself some downtime from athletic pursuits.  But my trip to South Africa is just a little over three months away, and that's not that far off in the future.  Right now it's hard to imagine myself in the kind of form I want to be in when I'm laying down frequent hard sprints in pursuit of those Miller's Run swells.

This past week I've paddled Tuesday, yesterday, and today.  I've kept the intensity fairly low, although I've allowed myself to try some barge wake surfing whenever that opportunity presents itself.  But the vessels I've seen haven't been producing very good waves, and I wonder if that's because of the low water.  The towboats are pushing fewer barges right now, and they might not be running their engines at full throttle with milder current to fight.  Both Tuesday and today there were rigs coming upriver that I went out and tried to surf, shingles and all, but the surfing turned out to be not much good.

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Let's look at some more photos that my friend Rob took in the Grand Canyon

This week's photo feature is probably not the most pleasant thing to look at.  So here are some more photos that my friend Rob Lieb took during our journey down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon this past August 27-September 11.

Every day we watched the sunlight go through its dance routine with the canyon walls.

This is one of the many side canyons... I'm not sure which one.  It could be Havasu Canyon, where we stopped on Day 11.

The ingredients of the typical Grand Canyon vista: water, mud, sand, riverbank grasses, rock, and sky.

The drainage patterns of the Plateau Province are strikingly different from those I'm familiar with east of the Mississippi, where I've lived my whole life.  The tributary creeks enter the Grand Canyon through cracks big and small.

For much of the second half of our trip, the Colorado River ran brown with an infusion of muddy water from the Little Colorado.

J.D. Terry, a Missourian now living in Mammoth Lakes, California, was steady as a rock oaring his boat downriver.

I believe this is Matkatamiba Canyon, where we stopped for a side hike on Day 10.

Redwall Cavern is one of the more memorable features of the Grand Canyon.  It's a big cave with a soft sandy floor right alongside the river.  Amelia Taylor, Genevieve Verrastro, and Emily Cox enjoy a break from running the river.  Daniel Cox, Kaylin Owens, and Wiik Ingle toss the frisbee back yonder.

I'm not sure the Grand Canyon is ever quite as peaceful as it looks in photos like this one, but we did enjoy lots of blue sky and white puffy clouds against the red and brown canyon walls.

Nathan Rakestraw of Erwin, Tennessee, is eager to get going on our trip's first day.

Rob shows us the BUCKING BRONCO RIDE that every Grand Canyon river-runner is in for!

AND... that's enough for now.  I have many more of Rob's photos and I'll share more later.  "Later" could mean tomorrow, next week, next month, next year...

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Monday photo feature

If you didn't know for sure what a case of shingles looks like, now you do.

The doctor I saw Friday morning said it's a pretty classic case.  A shingles rash typically affects a specific dermatome, or an area of skin supplied by nerves from the dorsal root of any given spinal nerve.  In my case pictured here, it's the thoracic nerves that sprout from my spine and wrap around to the front of my torso.  (That's my totally non-expert understanding, anyway.)  I took this picture in my bathroom mirror, so that's the right side of my torso even though it looks like my left.  According to the Wikipedia page on shingles, a rash usually follows "a stripe or belt-like pattern that is limited to one side of the body and does not cross the midline."

So, how long will I have to deal with this?  The prevailing answer is "it just takes time."  While I really, really want it to go away, I'm also grateful that as of this writing, at least, it hasn't been as painful as I've heard it can be.  So far it's amounted to not much more than an annoyance, and I'm more or less living life.

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I prefer the kind that are up on my roof

By Friday morning it was clear that the hideous rash on the right side of my torso was not running its course, and my throat was still sore, so I went to a doctor.  The doctor took one look at the rash and told me it was shingles.

I know several people who have had shingles, and they report that it was about the most excruciating thing they'd ever had to endure.  I wouldn't describe my case as excruciating, but the discomfort level does seem to be ticking upward ever so gradually.  The rash didn't really hurt or itch at all when it first appeared; I could walk around barely aware that it was there.  But now I can feel it constantly.  There's mild itching and sort of a feeling of microscopic needle pricks.  My friend Rob, who's a chiropractor and with whom I was just in the Grand Canyon, tells me that the itching is simply my immune system doing its work, and that I should absolutely not scratch.

The doctor gave me a steroid shot that she said would stem the inflammation.  She also prescribed an oral steroid, an antiviral medication, and some prescription-strength ibuprofen.  So far the rash looks about as bad as ever, but at least the sore throat I was having has gone away (thanks to the ibuprofen, probably).

According to the Wikipedia page on shingles, most shingles rashes heal in two to four weeks.  My rash first appeared a week ago, so I hope I get credit for that "time served" and will have to serve only... what?  One more week?  Two?  Three?

Meanwhile, my energy level seems just fine otherwise, and I'm trying to conduct life as normally as I can.  On typical Saturday and Sunday mornings I go to the river, and so that's what I've done this weekend.

I woke up yesterday morning after a lousy night of sleep.  I was in bed before 9 o'clock Friday evening but didn't manage to doze off until after 2 AM.  Maybe the rash was bothering me, or the medications were messing with my sleep cycle, or I was simply feeling anguished by knowing that I had the dreaded shingles... I can't really tell you.  But I still woke up between 5 and 6 AM like I always do, and once it was clear I wouldn't be falling back asleep, I went ahead and got up.

My biggest concern as I got in the boat was how my rash would feel with my shirt and PFD rubbing against it.  I was prepared to call it quits after just ten minutes if the discomfort was too severe.  But it turned out not to be so bad, and I paddled for 40 minutes.  I stayed in the harbor and kept the stroke rate low, focusing my attention on stroke mechanics, which I consider the best use of these "easy" training periods like the one I'm supposed to be having right now.

This morning my rash wasn't itching so much, but it felt exceedingly sensitive.  So again I wondered how it would do under my paddling apparel.  But once again, it didn't bother me once I was underway.  I paddled for 60 minutes and actually felt as much giddy-up in the boat as I have since I got home from out West.  I paddled out onto the Mississippi and would have tried some wake-surfing if there had been any barge traffic, but there was none.  So I did a loop out there and enjoyed the lovely fall weather.  It was sunny with a cool breeze that wasn't strong enough to make an oppressive headwind, but created the sort of smooth chop on the river that I enjoy making the boat glide over.  By the time I was walking up the ramp from the marina to the parking lot, I had that pleasant feeling I usually have after a really good paddle and I even forgot about the shingles for a few moments.

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Another Grand video

Here's another short film that I put together from the footage I shot in the Grand Canyon.  What we have here is Day 13, when we woke up to find the Colorado River running a dark grey color.  My best guess is that there was some flash flooding upriver from a tributary that flows from the burn area of the Dragon Bravo fire.

Other than that, we were in a leisurely mood on Day 13.  The biggest whitewater was behind us, and we were beginning to sense that the finish line was drawing near.  That didn't mean our work was finished, however: hotter weather generated a pesky afternoon headwind that made our downriver progress feel like a slog.  But it's easy to forget all that now as I sit here and behold the beautiful landscapes we paddled by.  Certainly the music ("West of Samoa" by Speedy West) suggests a leisurely mood.

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All done in

Well, if a paddling trip through the Grand Canyon didn't finish me off physically, the crafts fair last weekend sure did.  My entire body was achy and sore by the time I brought all my tools and equipment home from the event on Sunday evening.

In the days since then I have felt like doing little besides lying around.  The aches and pains have been quite a variety: a sore right biceps muscle, which I strained somehow while swinging an axe last Friday; soreness in my lower back; a stabbing pain in the vicinity of my left hip flexor whenever I move a certain way; and a very general exhaustion of all my trunk muscles and even my internal organs.

Maybe the weirdest thing is an ugly rash of hives across the right side of my torso.  It sort of looks like poison ivy, but I can't recall coming into contact with any of those three-leaved plants recently.  I also haven't taken any new medications, and I can't think of any foods I've eaten that I might have an allergic reaction to.  Very strange.  I first noticed it last Saturday evening, and in the last couple of days I think it's gotten worse, not better.  And the skin in my torso area seems more sensitive than usual, even where the rash isn't... kind of a tingling sensation.

Meanwhile, my weight has been down below where I think it should be.  At least anecdotally, I seem to feel at my strongest and most energetic when I weigh close to 160 pounds; but for most of the last year I've been in the low 150s, and just before I left for the Grand Canyon I dipped below 150.  Since getting back home, I have continued to weigh in below 150, with my low point being 146.

The explanation for my weight loss, and what it might mean, is something I don't really know.  I've tried changing my eating habits a little--incorporating more protein, for instance--but I never could tell if that was making any lasting difference.  In recent years I've been lifting weights less, largely because of the nerve-impingement issues in my upper spine, so maybe decreased muscle mass has something to do with it.

In any case, these days I'm feeling about as "down" physically as a person can feel.  I feel borderline sick, actually--my throat has been sore for a couple of days.  But I don't seem to be running a fever, and once I get up and around each morning my energy level seems okay.

The good thing is that a thorough rest is already what I have planned for the next several weeks.  I'll be here at home for the next four months; my next big event is a return to the western cape of South Africa for some downwind paddling in late January.  Certainly, I'll need to be trained up for that, but I've got time.  I hope to have a new fitness program underway by late October or early November.

Right now I'm just trying to keep myself moving to some minimum degree.  I went down to the river and paddled both Tuesday and today.  I've actually felt surprisingly good in the boat once I've warmed up, though today I limited myself to just an easy 40 minutes because I'm getting more and more concerned about this rash and whatever maladies I've got in me.

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