Some fun and some hard work on the Miller's Run

When I woke up yesterday morning, the southeasterly wind had returned.  My fellow campers and I headed out to see what fun could be had on the Miller's Run.  The Miller's Run starts at Miller's Point in False Bay.  From there, the paddler aims for the Roman Rock Lighthouse, and then continues on to Fish Hoek Beach.

The plan was to do a morning run, take a break, and do an early-afternoon run.  Dawid had us spend the first part of the morning run doing a couple of drills.  The first drill challenged us to catch some runs while taking as few strokes as possible over a five-minute period.  A dozen or so strokes would be required to get on a run, but then the idea was to ride the run as long as possible, reading the water and keeping the nose of your boat in the trough as the trough moved around.  Dawid had to add the caveat that each of us must catch a run--we couldn't just float for five minutes.  He had to bark at me a couple of times for not trying hard enough to catch a run; I, meanwhile, was frustrated by how many strokes I had to cough up just to get on a run.

The next drill had us maintain a constant stroke rate--raising one's cadence in order to get established on a run was forbidden.  Instead, each paddler had to keep his stroke rate the same, and simply apply more power during the critical moment of catching a run.  Paddling on flatwater back home, I do lots of workouts at various stroke rates and degrees of power, so this drill seemed simple enough to me.  But it was trickier doing it in downwind conditions.  It often seemed that I simply couldn't put enough power into my strokes to get on a run at the moderate stroke rate I'd chosen.

These drills were very much like the drills I've done in the past for whitewater slalom of for flatwater in the harbor: they were mentally taxing more than anything else.  In no time at all, my brain was tired even though my body wasn't.

Once we reached the lighthouse, Dawid set us free to ride the downwind conditions into Fish Hoek Beach.  At this point I started having the most fun of this trip so far.  I think my body is becoming more and more adapted to the stresses of downwind paddling, and also the conditions were much better defined than they were on Sunday.  I landed on the beach feeling good and looking forward to run number two.

Jasper had missed our morning run because he had a prior commitment with another group, but he rejoined us for the afternoon.  This second run was to be a good old-fashioned downwinder with no drills or special instructions, though Jasper did say he wanted us to let the conditions do the work as much as possible.  In other words, he wanted us doing no hard sprints to get over that extra bump; if a big juicy run wasn't within obvious reach, he said, let it go and wait for the next one.

We set off from Miller's Point, and Jasper moved among us to provide coaching.  Noticing that each time I caught a run I was moving both right and left in search of the next one, he told me to move only to the right, because that was where the next one was presenting itself under today's condition.  I did as he said, and as the run went on I began to understand what he was talking about.  I settled into a good rhythm with the ocean and was linking runs with nice regularity.  There were times where I was gasping for breath and had to back off a little, but then I was able to get back in the flow quickly, and I believe that the fitness training I'd done back home was paying off.

From the lighthouse in to the beach the conditions became more concentrated, and at times more confused because of rebounding waves off Elsie's Peak.  A couple of times it took a timely brace to save myself from flipping.  As the beach drew nearer I chased runs as aggressively as I dared.  The moment my bow touched the beach I looked at my watch and saw that it was an even 49 minutes since Jasper had sent us off.  This was the first time I'd ever broken 50 minutes on the Miller's Run.  I hadn't really been that focused on clocking a fast time--a couple of times during the run I'd stopped paddling altogether to listen to some advice that Jasper was offering.  My main goal had been to go out and enjoy the run as much as I could, and sometimes that's the most important element in producing a fast time.

(For context: the all-time Miller's Run record for a solo paddler is 36 minutes, 28 seconds by Uli Hart of Fish Hoek.  Mr. Hart achieved that time just a couple of weeks ago, breaking the record of 36:36 set by one Jasper Mocke.)

Needless to say, I was in high spirits.  I'd clocked my best time, my body felt good, my cardiovascular endurance was there, the conditions were ideal, the water and the waves and the sunshine were beautiful... it all added up to a super day.

The wind continued to blow hard overnight.  By this morning it seemed to have let up slightly, but there was no shortage of conditions out on the Miller's Run.  Today the Mockes mixed things up a little by putting a couple of us in double surf skis with them.  For the morning run, Jasper was the lucky man who drew me for a partner.

We set off from Miller's Point, and while Jasper, in the bow seat, seemed to have no trouble reading the conditions, he remarked that they were quite tricky.  The main reason was that the ground swell was running from our right to our left, toward the shore, while the wind swell was running straight on--in other words, they were at an angle to each other.  In the early going our main strategy was to get up some speed on the ground swell and surf it to the right and look for wind swell to catch that would keep us moving toward the lighthouse.  We did that again and again; in the stern seat, I simply followed Jasper's lead, and we glided merrily along.  Once in a while we would pause so that Jasper could provide coaching to one of my fellow campers, Craig Taylor of Sydney, Australia, who was paddling a single ski.  Craig was having his difficulties in the confusing conditions, and Jasper was encouraging him to focus on just one or two things so that he could have some success.

Once we'd passed the lighthouse and set our sights on the beach, Jasper pointed out various aspects of the conditions for me.  For a period we rode the same swell, though it was hard to detect because of all the little bumps we were moving over in the process.  Jasper pointed it out, and I could in fact see it, but I was doubtful that I would be able to see it while paddling out there in my own.

We arrived at the beach, and though we had thrown in some hard sprints during our run, I felt fresh, because the guy leading my boat is one of the best in the world at navigating downwind conditions with very little wasted effort.

For our second run today, I was on my own in a single ski.  The good news was that the wind had shifted a bit so that the ground swell and wind swell were more lined up.  Nevertheless, I found the conditions harder to read than I had yesterday.  I didn't quite have the power to get onto a ground swell right away, so I used smaller runs to get my speed up with the intention of linking onto one of those big beautiful waves.  But too often when I thought I had a good run to link onto, all of a sudden it wasn't there.  As a result, I felt like I was taking lots and lots of wasted strokes and I had to back off to catch my breath frequently.

I would say that I had fun during this second run.  I didn't feel as miserable as Craig had looked in the morning.  But my run was a lot of work... too much work, I'm afraid.

I believe even elite downwind surfski racers are not a hundred percent efficient.  They're simply more efficient than guys like me.  The best thing I know to do is look at all this philosophically.  I didn't come away an elite paddler from my first visit to Fish Hoek; nor was I an elite paddler after my second visit.  And I won't be after this third visit, either.  But each time, I've learned little things, many of which I can't even really articulate.  On my second visit I was able to build on what I'd learned during my first, and on this visit I am once again building on past learning.  The key to enjoying these trips is to appreciate that process and knowing that each day I'm a little bit wiser than I was the day before.

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No wind? There's still some good stuff to do.

While the Miller's Run was placid yesterday, the Mockes thought they had found an alternative.  Forecasts were showing a decent south-southwest wind developing by afternoon, so we headed over to the Atlantic side of the Cape Peninsula to paddle from Oudekrall Beach to the Oceana power boat club.

Sadly, when we arrived at Oudekrall the wind was not blowing as advertised.  So we had to settle for a tour rather than a downwind run.

It was a pretty fascinating tour, however.  For one thing, the scenery was quite impressive.  From our putin we could see the "back" side of Table Mountain, and we passed by Lion's Head Peak midway through.  Eventually we were paddling by the core city of Cape Town, and our took out with a great view of the "front" side of Table Mountain.

Meanwhile, out on the water the ground swell was as big as I've ever paddled in.  Ground swell is not really surfable the same way wind-driven waves are, but Dawid and Jasper coached us in the art of getting as much forward aid as we could out of it.

Today was another day with little wind in the forecast, so we drove down into the Cape Reserve for a paddle around the Cape of Good Hope and the Cape Point.  We would put in at Platboom Beach on the Atlantic side, and paddle around to Buffels Bay on the False Bay side.

While this adventure didn't offer the downwind that we all came here for, it was not without its share of excitement.  Platboom Beach features some bigger-than-average shore break that's rather imposing for the paddler heading out onto the ocean from there.  Dawid and Jasper spend some time observing the incoming waves, determining the frequency and the number of waves in each set, and came up with what seemed like a good plan: Dawid would put on the water with us campers, while Jasper, in radio communication with his brother, would stand up on the beach and tell us when it was a good time to go.

So we were all sitting in our boats looking at the impact zone, waiting for the green light.  As an experienced whitewater paddler, I'm less intimidated by paddling into the shore break than some people might be; but seeing as how the Mockes know more about the ocean and its rhythms and behaviors than this lifelong inland-dweller ever will, I wasn't about to second-guess them.  And yet, as Dawid, relaying his brother's advice, told us "wait... wait... wait... wait... wait..." I couldn't help getting hot and bothered, as the waves I was seeing in front of me didn't strike me as a big deal.  Then, when Dawid finally gave us the go ahead, I found myself paddling into breaking waves that did seem like kind of a big deal.  I paddled as hard as I could and managed to punch through them all, but at least one, maybe two of my fellow campers ended up swimming and had to try again.

Later on the Mockes would admit that their launching strategy didn't quite go as planned, but... in the end there was no hard done.  Flipping and swimming is part of every paddler's experience.

As we proceeded onward toward the southern terminus of the Cape Peninsula, we found that the ground swell was even bigger than it had been yesterday.  It was moving in from the southwest, so we were paddling against it in the early stages.  I for one was in awe of its size.  It wasn't really difficult to paddle on, but some of the approaching swells were truly impressive.  We were bobbing up and down through a range of, I don't know, six vertical feet (a couple of meters)?  As we rounded the bottom of the peninsula, we started to get waves rebounding off the rocks, and while it wasn't too scary, it did command my attention as I navigated through it.  As we approached the Cape Point lighthouse, I actually found a few surfable runs within the chaos, and that was fun.

The conditions calmed considerably once we were in False Bay.  But there were lots and lots of seals swimming around and apparently finding plenty of food.  Fortunately I didn't get as well acquainted with one as I did four years ago.  We reached Buffels Bay and had drinks and snacks, and then the Mockes declared that we would continue on up the peninsula until we reached Miller's Point, the start of the Miller's Run.  This stretch of coastline features some truly lovely geology, including caves and granite boulders.

Like I said, we all came here for the famous downwind awesomeness.  But one must be ready to accept that the wind doesn't always blow.  Fortunately, the Mockes' bag of tricks includes some pretty neat activities for those no-wind days, and we availed ourselves of that yesterday and today.

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Monday photo feature

After working us hard yesterday, coaches Dawid and Jasper Mocke gave us some downtime this morning, during which we did some video analysis of our efforts on the Miller's Run.  Dawid, seated at the table here inside the Fish Hoek Beach Sports Club, provided kind but firm critique of what each of us was doing.

We were back on the water this afternoon.  More on that later.

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Shocking the system across the Atlantic

My travels went quite smoothly and I arrived in Cape Town around 7 o'clock local time Friday evening.  The Mocke brothers dispatched Mr. Aldo Cicatello to drive me from the airport to the beach community of Fish Hoek.  Fish Hoek sits on the False Bay side of the Cape Peninsula, and while it was once its own municipality, it is now part of the City of Cape Town.

I'm staying at the same bed & breakfast (they call them "guest houses" in South Africa) where I stayed on my previous two visits to South Africa: the Tuscan Villa in Fish Hoek.  I wouldn't say it's super-fancy, but it's a real B&B, not one of those "Air" B&Bs.  The place makes a low-maintenance guy like me feel like he's in the lap of luxury, most notably at breakfast time, when they serve a complete home-cooked meal.  The proprietor, a lady named Anita, is as conscientious a host as you'll ever find, and she's a fount of knowledge of this area and can offer advice to her guests on just about any topic.  Here in the "high season" (December through March) the rate runs around R1700 per person; at the current rate of about 16.1 South African Rand to the U.S. dollar, that comes to about $105.60.  That's a bit higher than I usually pay at the budget motels (Days Inn, Baymont Inn, Econo Lodge, etc.) that I typically stay at in my own country, but you get a lot for the money.  And within the last several years the exchange rate has been as high as 20 Rand to the dollar, making Tuscan Villa an even better deal for the U.S. visitor.  I certainly want to believe that the dollar will be that strong again sooner or later, but, well... don't get me started on the state of such things in my nation.

I spent yesterday enjoying some unstructured time before the beginning of camp.  I walked to the Fish Hoek Beach Sports Club, where I caught up with a couple of friends and inspected the new construction that has occurred since my last visit four years ago.  I did some grocery shopping and other errands, and otherwise just worked on getting over my jet lag.

Camp began this morning, and it was different from what I'd expected.  Normally the first morning sees campers get their boats adjusted before doing an easy paddle, but there was a strong enough southeast wind blowing to create serviceable conditions out on the Miller's Run, and with very little wind in the forecast for the next couple of days, the Mocke brothers decided to get us on out there for a pair of downwind runs while we had the chance.

I worked hard back home to be ready for this camp, but I don't think anything I could have done in advance would have spared me the shock to the system I got today.  I laid down one hard sprint after another to get what I could from the moderate-sized conditions, and halfway through the first run I was exhausted.  Dawid Mocke told me to stop working so hard and spend the rest of that run letting the runs come to me, and that was what I needed to hear at that moment.  I paddled on in to Fish Hoek Beach catching some good runs here and there but not trying to conquer the world.  I carried that approach into the second run, which we did after a short break at the Fish Hoek Beach Sports Club.

While driving back to Miller's Point for the second run, Dawid's brother Jasper went over a couple of things I could be doing better.  There were probably many things I could have been doing better, but Jasper focused on just a couple, and that was wise, because it prompted me to spend the second run working on just those couple of things and not overloading my senses any more than they already were.

Regardless, I was absolutely gassed by the time I was coming in to the beach for the second time.  My arms and shoulders were stiff and sore from the lactic acid generated by the not-so-efficient paddling I had done.  I'm probably still a little jet-lagged and that was a contributing factor, but the truth is that ocean downwind paddling is more intense and just plain different from anything I can do in Memphis, Tennessee.  Right now I'm hoping that my fitness base is solid enough to enable my body to adapt to these new stresses as the week moves along.

I'll write more later, and I hope I'll be able to articulate my insights more lucidly.  But for now what I need is to go to bed and sleep soundly.

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And we're off

I got in the boat Monday morning and did another set of twenty 12-stroke sprints, starting at the top of every minute.  This workout was suggested by Jasper Mocke, who will be leading next week's camp in South Africa along with his brother Dawid, as a way to prepare for the physical demands of the downwind paddling we'll be doing.  In reality, I don't think any flatwater workout in the harbor can simulate all the stresses I'll experience next week on the waters around the Cape Peninsula.  But I did what I can, just like I always do, and my body handled it well.  So that gives me some confidence.

I had planned to wait until yesterday morning to paddle again, but when I looked at the forecast Tuesday morning, I saw that while Tuesday was a bright, if cold, sunny day, yesterday was supposed to be rainy and miserable.  So I got myself down to the riverfront on Tuesday, and did one more set of twenty 12-strokers.

It was indeed rainy and miserable yesterday, so I was glad to have my last bit of paddling in the bank.  Since then I've just been resting, and I expect to continue doing so until the first paddling session of our camp on Sunday morning.

I'm flying out later today, and it looks like I've got it timed perfectly, as there's a winter storm heading this way that's supposed to make things pretty nasty by Saturday.  With any luck at all, I'll be basking in some summer sunshine on Fish Hoek Beach.

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Monday photo feature

Four years ago, either John or Tamsin of Cape Town Sport Photography caught this simply lovely glimpse of me moving onto the sweet spot of a Miller's Run swell near Simon's Town.

Right now I'm enduring another freezing day here at home.  But by this Friday I'm scheduled to be back in the Cape Town area, where the summer weather will be a welcome change.  I've done everything I can do to have my body ready to perform on those swells once again.

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Brrr.

We're in a stretch of much more January-like weather here in Memphis and the Mid South.For the last couple of days the temperature has stayed below 40 degrees Fahrenheit, plunging below 20 degrees overnight.  In another day or two it's supposed to wander up into the high 40s, but that's as warm as it's going to get before I leave for South Africa on Thursday.  To experience summertime in the southern hemisphere will be a welcome change indeed.

After a day off on Wednesday and an easy 50-minute paddle on Thursday, I moved into my last round of intense work.  On Friday I did my last dry-land workout before the trip, and I was glad to get it done.  Those workouts include a lot of running along with some core exercises, and I've been feeling the impact on my legs.  I hope now I'll be able to get my legs back under me.  For those not so familiar with my sport, there's a lot of leg power involved in high-performance kayaking.

The downwind paddling I'll be doing in South Africa requires frequent short, hard sprints.  Yesterday I did a workout to fine-tune my fitness in that direction: twenty starting at the top of each minute.  A 12-stroke sprint takes me around 12-14 seconds, so my recovery interval was 46-48 seconds.  While I was starting to feel a bit more taxed by the end of the session, I still was able to paddle strong throughout, and that was encouraging.

I'd planned to go back down and paddle today, but with sub-freeing temperatures and a harsh north wind blowing all morning, I gave myself a break.  I'll see if I can get back to it tomorrow, even though it looks like it'll be frigid and miserable once again.  At least by now I'm as fit as I'm going to get before the "Camp Mocke" downwind camp starts a week from today.

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South Africa prep is in its late stages

On days when I plan to do my dry-land routine, nudging myself into motion isn't easy because, frankly, those workouts are pretty hard.  They include a lot of running, and running taxes me in ways that paddling never has.  I'm also usually a bit sore for a day or two afterward.  And yet, every time I finish a dry-land workout I feel pretty great.  Some of that is endorphins, I expect, but I think it's also the result of simply completing something that would have been very easy to skip.  

Monday was a scheduled dry-land day, and because the temperature had dropped well below freezing in the early morning hours, that further sandbagged my motivation to get myself down to the Greenbelt Park.  But get down there I did, and by then the temperature had risen to an almost-comfortable 43 degrees Fahrenheit under a lovely clear sky.  Once the workout was underway, my body responded well and I got the work done without any trouble.

Today the temperature was supposed to reach 63 degrees, but it was still in the 40s when I got down to the riverfront this morning.  A strong wind from the south made it seem even chillier.  I got in the boat and paddled into that wind, to the mouth of the harbor, before turning around and commencing my workout.  Once more, I did a set of four bridge-to-bridge sprints, starting every 8th minute.  My times were 2:14, 2:12, 2:11, and 2:10.  Those were a bit slower than I'd clocked doing the same workout last Thursday even though I had a stronger tailwind today.  One might think a stronger tailwind should always produce faster times, but I don't think it's quite that simple.  Today the wind was generating chop on the water, while last Thursday the conditions were smoother, and I think it's easier to make a boat go fast over a smooth surface than over a bumpy one, even if those bumps are moving in the same direction that you are.

In any case, I accomplished my main objective, to give a good consistent effort in all four sprints.  This is the last time I'll do this workout before my departure, and it feels good to have it under my belt.  I plan to do one more dry-land workout before I leave, and it'll feel good to have it in the books as well.  As I've been saying, my overarching goal is simply to be physically prepared for paddling in South Africa, and I believe I am pretty well prepared.  Things aren't ideal, mainly because of the arm soreness, but under the circumstances I think I've put in a solid body of work.  I'm feeling confident, and confidence is the result of good preparation.

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Monday photo feature

My longtime racing friend Scott Cummins, pictured above in a file photo, had big news to share last week.  Scott has purchased the company Venturesport from its founder, Bruce Gipson, and will now be importing surfskis and other racing kayaks from South Africa.

The Venturesport website is here.  As of this writing it appears to need some updating: it still lists Bruce Gipson as the owner.  But I encourage anybody interested in buying a high-performance kayak to stay tuned to it and see what Scott, who is based in Louisville, Kentucky, will have to offer.

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Calm weekend

I've taken it easy this weekend ahead of my final push toward my goal of being fit and ready to go when I arrive in South Africa in a couple of weeks.

On Friday morning I did an easy 50-minute paddle.  It was still quite warm outside for early January, but I could sense a chill in the air from the north.

It rained overnight, and by yesterday morning the Fahrenheit temperature was in the mid 50s and falling.  It was also overcast and breezy.  I had a funeral to attend, and was happy to have that excuse for a day off from training.

I was back out in the chill today, at any rate.  The temperature was in the low 40s and a brisk north breeze had a bite to it.  But at least the sun was shining.  I did a calm 60-minute paddle to close out these several days of light work.  I've got a couple of more harder periods before I start resting up for the trip.

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More friendly weather for outdoor training

It's now just two weeks until I depart for South Africa.  Once again the weather has turned unseasonably warm in Memphis and the Mid South, the Fahrenheit temperature rising into the 60s and even the 70s this week.

On Tuesday I paddled out onto the Mississippi, where I found some waves generated by a barge rig that had passed by downtown not long before.  Even in the mild weather, I was cautious because of the cold water.  I stayed fairly close to the Tennessee bank and threw in some short sprints to see what I could get from the small bumps.

Yesterday I did my workout on dry land.  These days I'm doing twenty uphill sprints of some thirty or forty meters, and I believe this is the most taxing part of the routine.  My goal here is to increase power in my lower body at a high rate of turnover.

My legs were tired last night and today, but I got in the boat and persuaded by body into another set of four bridge-to-bridge sprints, starting every 8th minute.  My times were faster than in last week's workout, but I attribute a lot of that to a pretty strong tailwind that was blowing from the south.  I clocked 2:06, 2:09, 2:09, and 2:10.  I think that first one was faster because I paddled with quite a high stroke rate, whereas I reined it in a little for the remaining three.  In the last sprint I paddled hard but I think my form was deteriorating somewhat.  In the end, I think I achieved my main objective: to work on my cardiovascular fitness while paddling controlled at higher stroke rates.

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Monday photo feature

While I've moved on to other activities, those days in the Grand Canyon remain fresh in my memory.  It's now been four months since I was there.  Here's a shot of me with my buddy Rob Lieb, looking upstream from Bass Camp (Mile 109), where we stayed from the 1st until the 3rd of September.  I can't quite remember who took the picture, but it might have been Kylie Haberman.

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Reporting in, once again

On Friday morning I was feeling tired from Thursday's workout.  I paddled mostly easy for 50 minutes under overcast skies with an occasional drizzle.

Friday went on to be quite a rainy day.  The rain moved out in the evening and some colder air moved in to replace it.  When I got up yesterday morning it was 39 degrees Fahrenheit--not just terribly cold, but with a lot of dampness in the air and on the ground it was that "penetrating" kind of cold.  I went down to the Greenbelt Park and did my dry-land routine, during which the sun gradually came out.  As usual, I put all the effort I could into each exercise and knocked the session out efficiently.

As I drove down to the riverfront this morning, my car's dashboard temperature display seemed stuck, stubbornly, on 39 degrees once again.  But the wind wasn't bad, and the sun was shining, so the conditions were actually pretty decent for paddling.  After warming up I paddled a strong tempo for 35 minutes, and then completed the hour with a cooldown.

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Working hard in a broad spectrum of temperatures

The temperature plummeted on Monday as expected, and Tuesday was pretty nippy as well.  When I went down to the Greenbelt Park Tuesday morning to do my dry-land routine, it was 41 degrees Fahrenheit--not just god-awful frigid, but not very warm either.  I got busy and knocked out my workout of running (on the flat and on an uphill grade) and core exercises.

It was chilly again Wednesday morning when I got back in the boat, but it was warming up toward a high in the mid 50s.  Three barge rigs were moving up the Mississippi River when I reached the mouth of the harbor, and while the air and water were too cold for me to get into the heart of their wakes, I did play around on the smaller waves that were radiating outward toward the Tennessee bank.  I was able to get some brief rides on these little bumps, but my right arm bothered me a bit during the hard sprints.  Back in the harbor I strove for rotation and leg drive to keep the pressure off my arm muscles.

I was in the boat again today with much warmer weather: the temperature would rise into the mid 60s by the afternoon.  After warming up, I did four of my bridge-to-bridge sprints, starting every 8th minute.  My times were 2:17, 2:14, 2:11, and 2:10.  I think the first one was slower because I wasn't entirely warmed up.  It was encouraging to get faster as the workout went on, but I'm hoping to get my cardiovascular system in a better place before I leave town in three weeks.  I know I'm in good shape when I recover quickly from each hard effort in an interval workout--that is, when my heart rate drops and my breathing settles down in short order.  Today I was breathing hard for longer than I would prefer after each sprint.  I'm confident I can get where I want to be in another week or two, however.

It looks like we'll get some rain tomorrow, followed by cooler weather over the weekend.  But as the South Africa trip draws ever closer, motivation doesn't feel like a problem for me these days.

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Monday photo feature

Here's a shot from 2002 or '03: Joe Royer took this picture of me out on the Mississippi River on a snowy day in Memphis.

Frigid weather has returned to the Mid South for the time being.  But a photo like this one serves as a reminder that it could always be worse.

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Making the most of friendly weather

The weirdly warm weather has continued, with the temperature rising above 70 degrees Fahrenheit for five days in a row.  The party's just about over, however: it's supposed to plunge into the 20s overnight and not reach 40 degrees tomorrow.

I did a little workout in the boat Thursday: eight times (1 minute on, 4 minutes off).  I aimed to paddle between 80 and 85 strokes per minute in the "on" intervals.  It was part of my slow, careful process of adapting my body to the sort of high-turnover efforts I'll need in South Africa a month from now.

That workout, along with Wednesday's hard dry-land routine, had me feeling tired on Friday.  The balmy weather prompted me to do something I don't normally do this time of year: ride my bike.  I rode the Greater Memphis Greenline out to Shelby Farms and back, and because I was really tired I let it be just a "tour" rather than a serious athletic effort.

I was still a little on the tired side yesterday, so I did a fairly easy 50-minute paddle.  This morning I was ready to rev the engines a little more, and with a strong south wind generating some small waves out on the Mississippi, I went out there to see what I could do with them.  The answer was not much, and since I was also underdressed for contact with the chilly water, I didn't stay out there long.  Back in the harbor I zigzagged back and forth many times to practice balance and glide in beam conditions.

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Short pants in December

Right now we're experiencing some very un-December-like weather in the Mid South.  Today the Fahrenheit temperature rose into the mid 70s, and is expected to keep doing so through the weekend.  Something about a high-pressure system drawing warm air up here from the Gulf of Mexico.

When I paddled yesterday, and when I did my dry-land routine today, I did so in shorts.  I got some brisk cold water splashes while paddling, but today I was sweating profusely while running and doing core exercises.  The Gulf air is humid, just like in the summertime.

I paddled for an hour yesterday, maintaining a steady pace with three long surges.  I could feel the soreness in my arm, but it wasn't bad.  As for today, I was feeling sluggish as I went down to the Greenbelt Park, and I wondered if I had a full workout in me.  But once I got going I kept myself moving from one exercise to the next, and before I knew it I was finished.  It actually took me some ten minutes longer to do the workout than it usually does, and I attribute that to the weather: when it's freezing cold outside I waste no time at all because I'm eager to get it done so I can go someplace warm, while today I probably lingered a bit more between exercises in the pleasant weather.  I think I still kept myself moving pretty efficiently, however.

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Monday photo feature

A week ago yesterday, the annual Cape Point Challenge took place on the waters I'll be paddling about a month from now.

The course varies some from year to year, depending on the wind and other conditions, but the map above shows what the racers did this year.  The peninsula is south of the city of Cape Town; locals often refer to it as the "Deep South," not to be confused with our region here in the U.S. that includes states like Alabama and Mississippi and Louisiana.  The town of Fish Hoek, where the race finished, is where I'll be based during my participation in the downwind camp hosted by the brothers Dawid and Jasper Mocke.

The Cape Point Challenge is definitely a long-distance endeavor.  The fastest boats finished this year's race just under four hours.  Based on my experience competing against some of the people who completed the race, I'm guessing I would have taken the better part of six hours to finish.  That makes me think this event is probably not for me, but surfski paddlers on the Western Cape of South Africa regard it with utmost reverence.

When I visited the area nearly four years ago, I had the opportunity to paddle from Platboom Bay to Buffels Bay.  Though it's just a small portion of this year's Cape Point Challenge course, it felt like a good solid day of paddling to me.

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Keeping the effort going

It's been another decent week as I continue working as hard as I can while keeping the stress on my upper right arm to a minimum.

After an hour of steady paddling on Tuesday, I was back in the boat Thursday for a varied-pace workout.  I paddled at a little over 60 strokes per minute for three minutes, then did 90 seconds around 72 spm, and finally 30 seconds at about 84 spm.  I did eight of these five-minute pieces in between a 15-minute warmup and a 5-minute cooldown.  My arm felt pretty good most of the time: 84 strokes per minute is low enough for me to have good control, and as long as I have control I can keep my ailing muscle out of the act of paddling.  It's when I get up over 100 spm that I start to feel the pain in my arm, and I may have to do that from time to time while chasing runs in South Africa.

Thursday was a rainy day, but I got my workout in that morning before the foul weather moved in.  It's always satisfying when I manage to do that.

By Friday morning the rain had moved out and chillier weather had moved in.  I went down to the Greenbelt Park and did my dry-land routine under sunny skies and a temperature around 41 degrees Fahrenheit.

It quickly warmed up to a high in the mid 60s Saturday.  I was back in the boat, paddling a strong tempo for 40 minutes in between a 10-minute warmup and a 10-minute cooldown.

Yesterday was not so balmy, and I had to paddle in a chilly north wind with the temperature below 50 degrees.  I paddled steady and focused on taking good strokes.

My departure for the southern hemisphere is now less than five weeks away.  I hope my body will cooperate with my desire to so some higher intensity work in the weeks to come.

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Monday photo feature

It's been at least 20 years since I last saw Albert Mitchum.  But learning he had passed away last week was a stiff gut-punch nevertheless.

By the time I got into whitewater slalom racing in the mid 1990s, Albert's peak racing years were winding down.  But he had a lot to show for it.  He was a regular contender for a spot on the U.S. national team, and he had seen elite-level international competition in some half-dozen World Cup events.

Albert decided to hang up his paddle after the 1996 U.S. Olympic Team trials, but he found he couldn't walk away entirely.  By 1998 he was entering some club races again, and he trained himself back up to compete in the 2000 Olympic trials.

I had known who Albert was earlier in the decade, but it wasn't until this latter period that I really got to know him.  He was very generous with his knowledge of slalom technique, and as a self-coached athlete I appreciated that very much.  He also was quite willing to discuss his skills in home construction; I was only just beginning to dabble in woodworking, and I was eager to learn whatever I could about any kind of building.  So we found plenty of conversation to bond over.

The 2000 trials was Albert's last "serious" slalom race, but for the next few years he continued to show up at events within a reasonable drive of his home in southeast Tennessee.  I usually saw him at the Alabama Cup races on the Locust Fork and Mulberry Fork rivers, and it was there that I had one of my proudest moments as a slalom racer when I managed to beat him in '02 or '03.  Sure, his peak years were long past by then, and he probably wasn't really even training, but hey... the guy had raced in World Cups, and that was something I could only dream of.  He of course accepted the result graciously, because that's the kind of person he was.

Soon enough, we both moved on to other things and our paths no longer crossed.  But I always remembered him as one of the kindest, most genuine people I knew while involved in slalom racing.  Unfortunately, I had entirely lost track of him until last week, when I saw in a social media post that he'd died.  Apparently he'd been diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease some four years ago, and declined rapidly toward the end.  He was 65 years old.

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