Yesterday I set out to paddle around the Loosahatchie Bar. I'd last done it back on February 5; it took me one hour, 55 minutes, 15 seconds that day, and according to my G.P.S. device I covered 12.66 miles. Yesterday my course was about a half-mile shorter--12.17 miles--and I took over two minutes longer to do it at 1:57:35.
The main reason for the shorter distance is a higher water level: 22.9 feet on the Memphis gauge, versus 19.7 feet on the fifth of February. This makes a difference at the north end of the Bar and at the southern tip of Mud Island, where water covers up more terrain as the water rises. Meanwhile, the main thing slowing me down yesterday was a stiff south wind.
Mind you, I never really do this paddle as a serious time trial--I don't go out dead-set on beating my best time or anything like that--but I do try to keep the boat moving and follow efficient lines and stuff like that. I keep a watch on it mostly out of curiosity; I'll get back to the dock and look at the time and say "Hmm, I did that pretty fast today" or whatever might be appropriate. I'm always really tired by the time I get back to the harbor, so part of the value of this exercise is the opportunity to practice good stroke form with my body in such a state.
There's a storm system moving across the central U.S. that the weatherman on my tee vee has been talking about all week because of its potential for bringing Noah's-Ark-caliber flooding. The system arrived here in the Memphis area last night and it rained pretty steadily through lunchtime today. It felt like a bit of chore to go out and paddle in such weather, but of course I usually get at least somewhat wet anytime I paddle--it is a water sport, after all. So out I went. Having paddled hard both Thursday and yesterday, I kept the intensity low today. It was reasonably warm, fortunately, and I tried to relish the drenching rain. Tried, that is... I was still glad to get back to the dock and go home.
I'm curious to see what effect this storm system has on the Mississippi, seeing as how it's covered large portions of the Missouri, Ohio, and upper Mississippi basins. I've been watching the NOAA forecast of Memphis gauge readings, and over the last few days the predicted crest has been revised upward from 25.4 feet to 32.5 feet to 34.5 feet. Official flood stage on the Memphis gauge is 34 feet: the city of Memphis will be fine, but bottomland on the Arkansas side and along tributary rivers on the Tennessee side will be inundated.
Sunday, April 30, 2017
Friday, April 28, 2017
Forging ahead
I'm thinking my next competition will be two weeks from tomorrow, and of course the big race here at Memphis is a mere seven weeks from tomorrow. So I'm starting to get back down to business.
Having paddled with Joe Tuesday and started a new strength routine Wednesday, I was ready to do a workout on the water yesterday. A storm front had moved through overnight and the morning was cooler and calm.
Paddling from the marina toward the mouth of the harbor, I warmed up for fifteen minutes and did three 8-stroke sprints. I paddled up the Mississippi to the south end of the Greenbelt Park, and then started my workout heading back downriver. The workout was ten two-minute pieces with two minutes recovery in between. I did the first two on the river and aimed for a pace of 12 miles per hour. By the third one I was back on the flatwater of the harbor, and my target pace was 7.5 mph.
I felt pretty good for most of the workout. As usual I tried to take the best strokes I could, with a good precise catch and full rotation from the waist up. By the sixth or seventh piece I was starting to feel pretty taxed. By the eighth piece I was well north of the marina and I turned around to do the last two heading south, back toward the dock. Up until then the southwest breeze had seemed light, but doing those last two pieces right into it was tough. I struggled to do 7.2 or 7.3 mph for those last two.
Anyway, it seemed like a good start for this period from now until the OICK race on June 17. With all that's been going on in my out-of-the-boat life my biggest challenge will be getting adequate recovery in between workouts.
Having paddled with Joe Tuesday and started a new strength routine Wednesday, I was ready to do a workout on the water yesterday. A storm front had moved through overnight and the morning was cooler and calm.
Paddling from the marina toward the mouth of the harbor, I warmed up for fifteen minutes and did three 8-stroke sprints. I paddled up the Mississippi to the south end of the Greenbelt Park, and then started my workout heading back downriver. The workout was ten two-minute pieces with two minutes recovery in between. I did the first two on the river and aimed for a pace of 12 miles per hour. By the third one I was back on the flatwater of the harbor, and my target pace was 7.5 mph.
I felt pretty good for most of the workout. As usual I tried to take the best strokes I could, with a good precise catch and full rotation from the waist up. By the sixth or seventh piece I was starting to feel pretty taxed. By the eighth piece I was well north of the marina and I turned around to do the last two heading south, back toward the dock. Up until then the southwest breeze had seemed light, but doing those last two pieces right into it was tough. I struggled to do 7.2 or 7.3 mph for those last two.
Anyway, it seemed like a good start for this period from now until the OICK race on June 17. With all that's been going on in my out-of-the-boat life my biggest challenge will be getting adequate recovery in between workouts.
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Pascagoula results
Here are the results of this past Saturday's Pascagoula Run race. Each line includes the racer's overall place, name, time (hr:min:sec), boat class, and gender.
1 Jeb Berry 1:50:00.6 K1 Race (M)
2 Elmore Holmes 1:50:08.0 K1 Race (M)
3 Nick Kinderman 2:05:31.7 K1 Race (M)
4 William Wolfe 2:08:01.2 K1 Race (M)
5 Robert Brooks 2:16:42.5 K1 Long (M)
6 Kent Overmyer 2:18:14.1 K1 Fast (M)
7 David Waters 2:18:24.4 K1 Medium (M)
8 Ray Tipton 2:19:18.8 K1 Long (M)
9 Chet Jaynes 2:20:37.2 K1 Long (M)
10 David Richards 2:24:36.7 K1 Long (M)
11 Gerry Cross 2:25:57.7 K1 Medium (M)
12 Lauren Drummond 2:26:19.0 K1 Long (F)
13 Wayne Berry 2:30:33.7 K1 Medium (M)
14 Stanley Stark 2:30:48.7 K1 Fast (M)
15 Charles Carpenter 2:31:08.5 K1 Fast (M)
16 Hank Baltar 2:36:21.4 K1 Long
17 Nova Cross 2:37:54.6 K1 Medium (F)
18 David Seyfarth 2:42:48.6 K1 Medium (M)
19 Carly Somerset 2:43:16.1 K1 Long (F)
20 Roberto Lopez 2:43:58.9 K1 Long (M)
21 Nate Payne 2:44:33.5 K1 Long (M)
22 Donna Mellott 2:50:00.7 K1 Fast (F)
23 Chucky Clark 2:51:05.3 K1 Short (M)
24 Dianne Tipton 3:01:21.1 K1 Long (F)
25 Belinda Johnson 3:02:37.9 SUP Pedal (F)
26 Debbie Boggs 3:02:54.9 K1 Fast (F)
27 Bill Shaw/Sharon Knight 3:03:31.2 C2 Rec (Mixed)
28 Ryan Gillikin 3:04:04.1 K1 Medium (M)
29 Kelli Overmyer 3:06:24.4 K1 Long (F)
30 Pete Blank 3:13:22.2 K1 Medium (M)
31 Jimmy Krebs 3:17:22.6 K1 Short (M)
32 Bryce Alexander 3:17:30.1 K1 Short (M)
33 Laura Callaway 3:19:08.8 K1 Medium (F)
34 Mica Swanson 3:20:33.4 SUP Pedal (F)
35 Kaleb Smith 3:21:01.2 K1 Pool Toy (M)
36 Brenda Sims 3:21:42.0 K1 Medium (F)
37 Mark Gardiner 3:23:53.5 K1 Short (M)
38 Ann Godfrey 3:23:55.8 K1 Long (F)
39 Kelly Platt 3:23:57.0 K1 Long (F)
40 Gene Peters 3:28:33.6 K1 Short (M)
41 Elliot Cassel 3:32:50.7
42 Drew Walker 3:35:57.7 K1 Pool Toy (M)
43 Jim/Donna Underwood 3:36:42.4 K2 Pedal (Mixed)
44 Brian Holmes 3:45:19.4 K1 Medium (M)
45 Alice Baker/Susan Vandagriff 3:45:26.3 K2 Rec (Mixed)
46 Gloria Bailey 3:45:47.8 SUP Surf (F)
47 Peyton McKay/Sharufah McKay 3:48:45.7 C2 Rec (Mixed)
48 Hunter Blades/Douglas Smith 3:51:44.6 K2 Rec (Mixed)
49 Ethan Sumrall 3:53:16.9 K1 Pool Toy (M)
50 Keigm Richards 3:53:17.6 K1 Pedal (F)
51 Shaun Tucker 3:53:51.0 K1 Medium (M)
52 Lisa/Anna Wright 3:56:28.7 K2 Pedal (Mixed)
53 Bill Wright 3:56:49.6 K1 Medium (M)
54 John Barber 4:06:18.4 K1 Medium (M)
55 Bill Monroe 4:10:01.5 K1 Short (M)
56 Judd Poor 4:10:23.4 K1 Medium (M)
57 Stefanie Poor 4:10:45.9 K1 Medium (F)
58 Laurie Snow 4:27:05.3 K1 Short (F)
59 Carla Hudson 4:27:20.7 K1 Pool Toy (F)
60 Jessie Zenor 4:33:55.7
1 Jeb Berry 1:50:00.6 K1 Race (M)
2 Elmore Holmes 1:50:08.0 K1 Race (M)
3 Nick Kinderman 2:05:31.7 K1 Race (M)
4 William Wolfe 2:08:01.2 K1 Race (M)
5 Robert Brooks 2:16:42.5 K1 Long (M)
6 Kent Overmyer 2:18:14.1 K1 Fast (M)
7 David Waters 2:18:24.4 K1 Medium (M)
8 Ray Tipton 2:19:18.8 K1 Long (M)
9 Chet Jaynes 2:20:37.2 K1 Long (M)
10 David Richards 2:24:36.7 K1 Long (M)
11 Gerry Cross 2:25:57.7 K1 Medium (M)
12 Lauren Drummond 2:26:19.0 K1 Long (F)
13 Wayne Berry 2:30:33.7 K1 Medium (M)
14 Stanley Stark 2:30:48.7 K1 Fast (M)
15 Charles Carpenter 2:31:08.5 K1 Fast (M)
16 Hank Baltar 2:36:21.4 K1 Long
17 Nova Cross 2:37:54.6 K1 Medium (F)
18 David Seyfarth 2:42:48.6 K1 Medium (M)
19 Carly Somerset 2:43:16.1 K1 Long (F)
20 Roberto Lopez 2:43:58.9 K1 Long (M)
21 Nate Payne 2:44:33.5 K1 Long (M)
22 Donna Mellott 2:50:00.7 K1 Fast (F)
23 Chucky Clark 2:51:05.3 K1 Short (M)
24 Dianne Tipton 3:01:21.1 K1 Long (F)
25 Belinda Johnson 3:02:37.9 SUP Pedal (F)
26 Debbie Boggs 3:02:54.9 K1 Fast (F)
27 Bill Shaw/Sharon Knight 3:03:31.2 C2 Rec (Mixed)
28 Ryan Gillikin 3:04:04.1 K1 Medium (M)
29 Kelli Overmyer 3:06:24.4 K1 Long (F)
30 Pete Blank 3:13:22.2 K1 Medium (M)
31 Jimmy Krebs 3:17:22.6 K1 Short (M)
32 Bryce Alexander 3:17:30.1 K1 Short (M)
33 Laura Callaway 3:19:08.8 K1 Medium (F)
34 Mica Swanson 3:20:33.4 SUP Pedal (F)
35 Kaleb Smith 3:21:01.2 K1 Pool Toy (M)
36 Brenda Sims 3:21:42.0 K1 Medium (F)
37 Mark Gardiner 3:23:53.5 K1 Short (M)
38 Ann Godfrey 3:23:55.8 K1 Long (F)
39 Kelly Platt 3:23:57.0 K1 Long (F)
40 Gene Peters 3:28:33.6 K1 Short (M)
41 Elliot Cassel 3:32:50.7
42 Drew Walker 3:35:57.7 K1 Pool Toy (M)
43 Jim/Donna Underwood 3:36:42.4 K2 Pedal (Mixed)
44 Brian Holmes 3:45:19.4 K1 Medium (M)
45 Alice Baker/Susan Vandagriff 3:45:26.3 K2 Rec (Mixed)
46 Gloria Bailey 3:45:47.8 SUP Surf (F)
47 Peyton McKay/Sharufah McKay 3:48:45.7 C2 Rec (Mixed)
48 Hunter Blades/Douglas Smith 3:51:44.6 K2 Rec (Mixed)
49 Ethan Sumrall 3:53:16.9 K1 Pool Toy (M)
50 Keigm Richards 3:53:17.6 K1 Pedal (F)
51 Shaun Tucker 3:53:51.0 K1 Medium (M)
52 Lisa/Anna Wright 3:56:28.7 K2 Pedal (Mixed)
53 Bill Wright 3:56:49.6 K1 Medium (M)
54 John Barber 4:06:18.4 K1 Medium (M)
55 Bill Monroe 4:10:01.5 K1 Short (M)
56 Judd Poor 4:10:23.4 K1 Medium (M)
57 Stefanie Poor 4:10:45.9 K1 Medium (F)
58 Laurie Snow 4:27:05.3 K1 Short (F)
59 Carla Hudson 4:27:20.7 K1 Pool Toy (F)
60 Jessie Zenor 4:33:55.7
Fulfilling the need for strength
I've said many times before that strength work is my least favorite part of training, and because of that I've developed a give-and-take relationship with it. I try to follow a few simple guidelines:
1. Keep the routines short and simple. I focus on quality, not quantity. This way I'm not dreading spending a big chunk of my day doing tedious and sometimes uncomfortable exercises. I try to work in exercises for each general area of the body--legs, core, and arms/shoulders.
2. Good technique is more important than the amount of weight. Paddling is a highly technical sport and I think it's important to be precise in the gym as well as in the boat. And on a similar note, let's not forget that I'm a paddler, not a body builder, so those commercial gym slogans like "Exercise your right to look good" don't really resonate with me. I happen to think that accomplished paddlers do in fact "look good," but there's a difference between "show muscle" and muscle that actually performs useful tasks. A bulky body is generally not an asset in our sport, so I do stuff to bring about good lean muscle tone, "prehab" exercises to prevent injuries, and explosive power. Also, at age 49 I'm thinking more and more about the issues of aging, and I look for exercises that emphasize continued flexibility and range of motion.
3. Don't get all upset if you miss a session. Most of the time I try to do strength work three times a week, but if life gets in the way and I have to miss a session, I just tell myself it's not a big deal, and I'll get back on track the next time.
I do my strength work in the comfort of my own home, where I listen to whatever music I want and can play with my cats in between exercises. I've got some dumbbells, a rubber band, a pair of gymnast's rings, and a few other simple things, and that's more than I need for a good routine.
And so, now that all that has been said, I present you with my latest strength routine:
1. Stability ball rolls (demonstrated by Jing Jing Li at 2:55 of the first video posted here)
2. Bicep curls with a dumbbell
3. Dead lift (demonstrated by Michele Ramazza at 2:55 of the third video posted here)
4. Rubber band "prehab" exercise (demonstrated by Daniele Molmenti at 8:35 of the second video posted here)
5. Stability ball exercise (demonstrated by Jing Jing Li at 1:03 of the first video posted here)
1. Keep the routines short and simple. I focus on quality, not quantity. This way I'm not dreading spending a big chunk of my day doing tedious and sometimes uncomfortable exercises. I try to work in exercises for each general area of the body--legs, core, and arms/shoulders.
2. Good technique is more important than the amount of weight. Paddling is a highly technical sport and I think it's important to be precise in the gym as well as in the boat. And on a similar note, let's not forget that I'm a paddler, not a body builder, so those commercial gym slogans like "Exercise your right to look good" don't really resonate with me. I happen to think that accomplished paddlers do in fact "look good," but there's a difference between "show muscle" and muscle that actually performs useful tasks. A bulky body is generally not an asset in our sport, so I do stuff to bring about good lean muscle tone, "prehab" exercises to prevent injuries, and explosive power. Also, at age 49 I'm thinking more and more about the issues of aging, and I look for exercises that emphasize continued flexibility and range of motion.
3. Don't get all upset if you miss a session. Most of the time I try to do strength work three times a week, but if life gets in the way and I have to miss a session, I just tell myself it's not a big deal, and I'll get back on track the next time.
I do my strength work in the comfort of my own home, where I listen to whatever music I want and can play with my cats in between exercises. I've got some dumbbells, a rubber band, a pair of gymnast's rings, and a few other simple things, and that's more than I need for a good routine.
And so, now that all that has been said, I present you with my latest strength routine:
1. Stability ball rolls (demonstrated by Jing Jing Li at 2:55 of the first video posted here)
2. Bicep curls with a dumbbell
3. Dead lift (demonstrated by Michele Ramazza at 2:55 of the third video posted here)
4. Rubber band "prehab" exercise (demonstrated by Daniele Molmenti at 8:35 of the second video posted here)
5. Stability ball exercise (demonstrated by Jing Jing Li at 1:03 of the first video posted here)
Monday, April 24, 2017
Monday photo feature
Carly Somerset of Ocean Springs faces the agony of long-distance competition with a grin during the Pascagoula Run Canoe and Kayak Race on Saturday. Photo by Suzanne Nelson.
Sunday, April 23, 2017
Some post-race notes
I left Pascagoula around 3 o'clock yesterday afternoon and drove my sore, achy body all the way back to Memphis, arriving home at about 9:30. After sleeping the sleep of the dead overnight, I got up this morning and set about the business of cleaning out the car and putting things away. I usually like to do a recovery paddle the day after a race, but my fatigue, the chilly overcast weather outside, and an early-afternoon social commitment all kept that from happening. Instead I did some full-body stretching and soaked in the tub for a while, and I'll try to get down to the river in the morning.
During the race yesterday I had my G.P.S. device on board, and though I'd turned off the speed feature--that piece of data is one distraction I prefer to do without during a race--it was still giving me my mile splits. I noticed that as Jeb Berry and I navigated the first third or so of the race our splits were in the 8:30-8:40 range, but in the later stages the pace slowed to around 9:10 or 9:15. I was a bit surprised at how fast our early miles were--not much slower than the mile pieces I'd done in a workout two weeks earlier. The Gulf Coast region hadn't had much rain lately and I wasn't counting on much help from the current. As for the slower pace later on, I guess the tide might have been a factor: I checked the tidal chart online this morning and it showed that the tide was on a gradual rise (and therefore flowing up into the rivers and creeks) while the race was going on. Also, once we were out of the forested section of the Pascagoula we were more exposed to the wind. I never thought the headwind was particularly bad during the race, but it was definitely there. It picked up quite a bit more after Jeb and I had finished and I didn't envy the people still out on the course, particularly the stand-up paddleboarders and the paddlers in open canoes.
What's next for me? Well, there's a race on the Kentucky River south of Lexington next Saturday that I'd love to attend, but I'm still slammed with work here at home and I'm not sure if I can swing it. If I don't make it up there, then maybe a race on the Osage River up in Missouri will be next: it's the weekend of May 13. I've wanted to go to it each of the last two years, only to have injuries crop up that forced me to cancel at the last minute. Maybe the third time will be the charm.
During the race yesterday I had my G.P.S. device on board, and though I'd turned off the speed feature--that piece of data is one distraction I prefer to do without during a race--it was still giving me my mile splits. I noticed that as Jeb Berry and I navigated the first third or so of the race our splits were in the 8:30-8:40 range, but in the later stages the pace slowed to around 9:10 or 9:15. I was a bit surprised at how fast our early miles were--not much slower than the mile pieces I'd done in a workout two weeks earlier. The Gulf Coast region hadn't had much rain lately and I wasn't counting on much help from the current. As for the slower pace later on, I guess the tide might have been a factor: I checked the tidal chart online this morning and it showed that the tide was on a gradual rise (and therefore flowing up into the rivers and creeks) while the race was going on. Also, once we were out of the forested section of the Pascagoula we were more exposed to the wind. I never thought the headwind was particularly bad during the race, but it was definitely there. It picked up quite a bit more after Jeb and I had finished and I didn't envy the people still out on the course, particularly the stand-up paddleboarders and the paddlers in open canoes.
What's next for me? Well, there's a race on the Kentucky River south of Lexington next Saturday that I'd love to attend, but I'm still slammed with work here at home and I'm not sure if I can swing it. If I don't make it up there, then maybe a race on the Osage River up in Missouri will be next: it's the weekend of May 13. I've wanted to go to it each of the last two years, only to have injuries crop up that forced me to cancel at the last minute. Maybe the third time will be the charm.
New place, familiar face, hard-fought race
Friday's drive went smoothly enough, and I spent the night at my friend Nick Kinderman's house in Ocean Springs. Yesterday morning the race was scheduled to start at 8:30 AM, so we were up bright and early to have a little breakfast, drive over to Pascagoula, drop our boats at the start, drive our cars down to the finish, and catch the shuttle back up.
The Pascagoula River is the largest free-flowing watershed left in the United States, and I'd heard for years how beautiful its swampy environs are. Finally I would get to see for myself. Up at Little River Marina where the race would start, we found ourselves in forested bottomland; as we paddled downstream toward Mississippi Sound the scenery would transition into coastal marshes and the river would distribute itself into numerous channels.
I admired it all but knew I had to focus on the task at hand. My main competition for the overall title would most likely come from Jeb Berry of Gulfport, Mississippi. Over the last eight years or so I had beaten Jeb handily at times but had to pull every trick in the book to hold him off at other times. I think Jeb's work schedule sometimes allows him ample training time and sometimes allows him hardly any. Based on his performance last month at Ocean Springs, when he was right on my tail until the very end, I'm guessing he's had some good time in the boat in the last few months.
We lined up next to the marina dock, and the gun went off. I tried to take the first 200 meters or so out pretty hard, so that anybody wanting to ride my wake would have to work a bit to get on it. Soon enough I could see Jeb's bow in my peripheral vision.
We were escorted by motorized craft from several agencies--sheriff's department, the local EMS, and so on--and as we covered the early miles through wooded terrain we had to contend with their wakes. Several times I saw what looked like a favorable wave moving in and I sprinted for it, hoping to stretch my lead a bit, but I gained no significant advantage. At one moment near the 3-mile mark a boat alongside us suddenly accelerated and sent a series of steep waves our way, causing both Jeb and me to spin out a little and swamping my footwell with water. Jeb moved out to a several-boatlength lead as I fumbled to open my drain valve, and I had to invest some energy in moving back up onto his stern wake over the next few minutes.
Once I was back on Jeb's wake, I sat there for a good long while and pondered my tactical plan. I was pretty sure I didn't want the race to go down to a sprint in the final hundred meters, because I'd probably be outmatched by Jeb's raw speed in that situation. But I also didn't want to try to out-grind Jeb over many miles because he's good at that, too. I figured my best bet would be to log as much time on Jeb's wake as I could and shorten the race to a three-mile-ish affair-- that's the kind of distance I think I do best.
So I sat on Jeb's wake some, and occasionally did my gentlemanly duty of taking a pull myself. Around mile 9 I threw in a surge and seemed to open a couple of boatlengths on Jeb, but moments later we reached the most puzzling part of the course. By now we were in the marshy grasslands and there were numerous forks in the channel. At one such place the race organizers had posted a sign with an arrow pointing toward the left fork, but the arrow was so small and my eyesight is so lousy that I practically had to paddle right up to the sign to see what it was telling me. Then, shortly after this fork, the channel forked again, and this time there was no sign. Neither fork looked any better than the other, and I had to stop paddling and throw up my hands in bewilderment. There were some spectators nearby, as well as a police boat, and of course Jeb, but nobody seemed to know for sure which way to go. By some process of inductive reasoning we decided the left fork was the way to go, and happily, it would turn out we were correct. But my attempt at a breakaway had been smothered.
No worries, I thought; I'll just try again. I proceeded to throw in a number of surges, but Jeb held fast on my wake over my right shoulder. Soon we were approaching the final bend in the course that revealed the U.S. 90 bridge, just beyond which the finish line lay. I knew my last chance to drive up the pace, and erode Jeb's ability to beat me in a short sprint at the finish, was at hand. As the bridge came into view some powerboat wakes swept through our path from right to left and I began to paddle hard, hoping that my comfort in such conditions would give me an advantage. And in the short run, I think it did. But as we moved within a hundred meters of the bridge, Jeb's bow roared into view to my right and seconds later he was in the lead, and just like that I was pretty sure he had me beat.
One final uncertainty remained, however: we'd been told that the finish line would be marked by two buoys, and as we passed beneath the bridge those buoys were nowhere in sight. I thought I had seen them when we were still four hundred meters out, but what I thought were the buoys turned out to be some rocks on the bank (my long-distance eyesight is poor, don't forget). It was only when we'd passed the solid concrete bridge piling on our left that the buoys were revealed. Jeb continued sprinting straight ahead until he'd crossed the imaginary line that passed through the two buoys, while I, ever the good little rule-follower, made a hard-left turn so that I could paddle between the buoys, as racers are technically supposed to do because it assures that the scorers on the bank can see their boat numbers.
So... for one who insists on following the letter of racing law, I was the inaugural Pascagoula Run champion. But in this case the spirit of the law deserved to prevail. When a race finishes on open water, it's important that the buoys be visible from a long distance out, and yesterday they weren't. So Jeb didn't know any better than I did where those buoys were, and when they popped into sight at the last second he'd just done what his instinct told him what was best. In fact, he'd done exactly what he had to do to beat me: he'd withstood my attempts to surge away from him out on the course, stayed within striking distance, and then proved stronger and faster at the end.
Fortunately, that's how the scorers saw it, and they declared Jeb the overall winner. The race organizers, meanwhile, quickly realized the flaw in the buoy placement and instructed the motorized support boats to advise racers still out on the course of where they were. I paddled back north of the bridge to help. That's where I saw my gracious host Nick finish up a good effort, beating out William Wolfe and Robert Brooks for third place overall. Lauren Drummond of D'Iberville, Mississippi, was the first female across the finish line. The race organizers are still working to get the complete results posted online; I will link to them when they do.
According to my G.P.S. device, the total race distance was about 12.38 miles (19,968 meters). Other racers got different readings because of the many choices of lines all along the course. The advertised distance was 12.5 miles. Jeb and I finished the course in about an hour and 50 minutes; again, I'll share the official results here when they are available.
All told, I thought this was a good event. It was quite well organized despite the couple of course-marking glitches. With any luck there will be more editions of this race for me to attend in the future.
The Pascagoula River is the largest free-flowing watershed left in the United States, and I'd heard for years how beautiful its swampy environs are. Finally I would get to see for myself. Up at Little River Marina where the race would start, we found ourselves in forested bottomland; as we paddled downstream toward Mississippi Sound the scenery would transition into coastal marshes and the river would distribute itself into numerous channels.
I admired it all but knew I had to focus on the task at hand. My main competition for the overall title would most likely come from Jeb Berry of Gulfport, Mississippi. Over the last eight years or so I had beaten Jeb handily at times but had to pull every trick in the book to hold him off at other times. I think Jeb's work schedule sometimes allows him ample training time and sometimes allows him hardly any. Based on his performance last month at Ocean Springs, when he was right on my tail until the very end, I'm guessing he's had some good time in the boat in the last few months.
We lined up next to the marina dock, and the gun went off. I tried to take the first 200 meters or so out pretty hard, so that anybody wanting to ride my wake would have to work a bit to get on it. Soon enough I could see Jeb's bow in my peripheral vision.
We were escorted by motorized craft from several agencies--sheriff's department, the local EMS, and so on--and as we covered the early miles through wooded terrain we had to contend with their wakes. Several times I saw what looked like a favorable wave moving in and I sprinted for it, hoping to stretch my lead a bit, but I gained no significant advantage. At one moment near the 3-mile mark a boat alongside us suddenly accelerated and sent a series of steep waves our way, causing both Jeb and me to spin out a little and swamping my footwell with water. Jeb moved out to a several-boatlength lead as I fumbled to open my drain valve, and I had to invest some energy in moving back up onto his stern wake over the next few minutes.
Once I was back on Jeb's wake, I sat there for a good long while and pondered my tactical plan. I was pretty sure I didn't want the race to go down to a sprint in the final hundred meters, because I'd probably be outmatched by Jeb's raw speed in that situation. But I also didn't want to try to out-grind Jeb over many miles because he's good at that, too. I figured my best bet would be to log as much time on Jeb's wake as I could and shorten the race to a three-mile-ish affair-- that's the kind of distance I think I do best.
So I sat on Jeb's wake some, and occasionally did my gentlemanly duty of taking a pull myself. Around mile 9 I threw in a surge and seemed to open a couple of boatlengths on Jeb, but moments later we reached the most puzzling part of the course. By now we were in the marshy grasslands and there were numerous forks in the channel. At one such place the race organizers had posted a sign with an arrow pointing toward the left fork, but the arrow was so small and my eyesight is so lousy that I practically had to paddle right up to the sign to see what it was telling me. Then, shortly after this fork, the channel forked again, and this time there was no sign. Neither fork looked any better than the other, and I had to stop paddling and throw up my hands in bewilderment. There were some spectators nearby, as well as a police boat, and of course Jeb, but nobody seemed to know for sure which way to go. By some process of inductive reasoning we decided the left fork was the way to go, and happily, it would turn out we were correct. But my attempt at a breakaway had been smothered.
No worries, I thought; I'll just try again. I proceeded to throw in a number of surges, but Jeb held fast on my wake over my right shoulder. Soon we were approaching the final bend in the course that revealed the U.S. 90 bridge, just beyond which the finish line lay. I knew my last chance to drive up the pace, and erode Jeb's ability to beat me in a short sprint at the finish, was at hand. As the bridge came into view some powerboat wakes swept through our path from right to left and I began to paddle hard, hoping that my comfort in such conditions would give me an advantage. And in the short run, I think it did. But as we moved within a hundred meters of the bridge, Jeb's bow roared into view to my right and seconds later he was in the lead, and just like that I was pretty sure he had me beat.
One final uncertainty remained, however: we'd been told that the finish line would be marked by two buoys, and as we passed beneath the bridge those buoys were nowhere in sight. I thought I had seen them when we were still four hundred meters out, but what I thought were the buoys turned out to be some rocks on the bank (my long-distance eyesight is poor, don't forget). It was only when we'd passed the solid concrete bridge piling on our left that the buoys were revealed. Jeb continued sprinting straight ahead until he'd crossed the imaginary line that passed through the two buoys, while I, ever the good little rule-follower, made a hard-left turn so that I could paddle between the buoys, as racers are technically supposed to do because it assures that the scorers on the bank can see their boat numbers.
So... for one who insists on following the letter of racing law, I was the inaugural Pascagoula Run champion. But in this case the spirit of the law deserved to prevail. When a race finishes on open water, it's important that the buoys be visible from a long distance out, and yesterday they weren't. So Jeb didn't know any better than I did where those buoys were, and when they popped into sight at the last second he'd just done what his instinct told him what was best. In fact, he'd done exactly what he had to do to beat me: he'd withstood my attempts to surge away from him out on the course, stayed within striking distance, and then proved stronger and faster at the end.
Fortunately, that's how the scorers saw it, and they declared Jeb the overall winner. The race organizers, meanwhile, quickly realized the flaw in the buoy placement and instructed the motorized support boats to advise racers still out on the course of where they were. I paddled back north of the bridge to help. That's where I saw my gracious host Nick finish up a good effort, beating out William Wolfe and Robert Brooks for third place overall. Lauren Drummond of D'Iberville, Mississippi, was the first female across the finish line. The race organizers are still working to get the complete results posted online; I will link to them when they do.
According to my G.P.S. device, the total race distance was about 12.38 miles (19,968 meters). Other racers got different readings because of the many choices of lines all along the course. The advertised distance was 12.5 miles. Jeb and I finished the course in about an hour and 50 minutes; again, I'll share the official results here when they are available.
All told, I thought this was a good event. It was quite well organized despite the couple of course-marking glitches. With any luck there will be more editions of this race for me to attend in the future.
Friday, April 21, 2017
Tearing myself away to race
Later this morning I'll start the six-hour drive down to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. The inaugural Pascagoula Run is tomorrow: it's about a twelve-and-a-half-mile (20-kilometer) race that starts at Little River marina and finishes in Lighthouse Park in Pascagoula. I've long heard how beautiful the Pascagoula River is and I'm looking forward to paddling on it.
Out-of-the-boat concerns have continued to occupy my attention, but I did get down to the river Tuesday and yesterday, and did the current strength routine Monday and Wednesday. Yesterday I did a set of eight 12-stroke sprints to polish my speed a bit ahead of tomorrow's race.
Out-of-the-boat concerns have continued to occupy my attention, but I did get down to the river Tuesday and yesterday, and did the current strength routine Monday and Wednesday. Yesterday I did a set of eight 12-stroke sprints to polish my speed a bit ahead of tomorrow's race.
Monday, April 17, 2017
Monday photo feature
Casey Eichfeld of Drums, Pennsylvania, competes in the 2012 U.S. Olympic Trials for whitewater slalom at Charlotte. Eichfeld won that trials and raced in his second Olympic Games that year. He made the Olympic team for a third time last year, and is now aiming for a fourth (unprecedented for a U.S. slalom racer) in 2020. Photo by Mike Watson.
Sunday, April 16, 2017
Hoping to be back in action next weekend
I'm tentatively planning to race down at Pascagoula, Mississippi, this Saturday. In spite of all the out-of-the-boat distractions my training has felt pretty good lately, and I'd like to get another race under my belt at this point in the season.
After Thursday's hard workout I've kept things steady and moderately paced this weekend. A warm spell has moved into the Mid South, with Fahrenheit temperatures in the 80s, and I've been in summertime attire down on the river.
After Thursday's hard workout I've kept things steady and moderately paced this weekend. A warm spell has moved into the Mid South, with Fahrenheit temperatures in the 80s, and I've been in summertime attire down on the river.
Friday, April 14, 2017
Racing again soon?
The training has felt pretty good this week with another round of competitions coming up pretty soon. On Tuesday I paddled for 60 minutes, doing three 8-stroke sprints and then paddling a steady pace. The river was only two feet higher than it had been over the weekend but it seemed quite a bit higher than that. There were a lot of logs and branches and other woody debris floating in the water and I guess that made for a flooded feel.
Yesterday I returned to the riverfront for another pace workout. After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I embarked on a set of ten half-mile pieces with four minutes recovery in between. My target time for each was 4 minutes 10 seconds, and the actual times were 4:12, 4:08, 4:08, 4:00, 4:06, 4:05, 4:04, 4:05, 4:07, 4:09. I got a bit overzealous on that fourth piece but otherwise stayed pretty close to the target. The workout was certainly tiring but I managed to paddle strong all the way through the last piece, and that was satisfying.
I did rounds of the current strength routine Monday, Wednesday, and today.
As for those upcoming competitions, I'm still trying to figure out which ones I will attend. I'd like to race on both the 22nd and the 29th but money is a bit tight right now because of my expensive rental property renovation, so... we'll see.
Yesterday I returned to the riverfront for another pace workout. After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I embarked on a set of ten half-mile pieces with four minutes recovery in between. My target time for each was 4 minutes 10 seconds, and the actual times were 4:12, 4:08, 4:08, 4:00, 4:06, 4:05, 4:04, 4:05, 4:07, 4:09. I got a bit overzealous on that fourth piece but otherwise stayed pretty close to the target. The workout was certainly tiring but I managed to paddle strong all the way through the last piece, and that was satisfying.
I did rounds of the current strength routine Monday, Wednesday, and today.
As for those upcoming competitions, I'm still trying to figure out which ones I will attend. I'd like to race on both the 22nd and the 29th but money is a bit tight right now because of my expensive rental property renovation, so... we'll see.
Monday, April 10, 2017
Monday photo feature
The greater Memphis area was well represented down at Vicksburg on Saturday, so I feel somewhat less bad about not making it myself. Mike Womack took second place in the class for fast touring boats, while Tim Schramm and Jason Salomon were first and third in the race boat class. All three finished in the overall top five. Photo by some random passerby.
Sunday, April 9, 2017
Time well spent here at home
It felt odd not to be in Vicksburg yesterday morning. The annual Bluz Cruz Canoe and Kayak Race took place there, and because of a Friday evening work commitment this was the first one I've missed since 2009. Congratulations to overall winners Phil Capel of Sherwood, Arkansas (men) and Karen Kesselring of Hot Springs Village, Arkansas (women). The complete results are here.
Races took place elsewhere yesterday as well. It felt as though I were the only person sitting at home not racing. All the more reason to get out on my home water and work it as if there were no tomorrow.
The next several races I'm likely to attend are somewhat long, so I went down to the river yesterday planning to do some pace work. After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I started the first of a few one-mile pieces. My goal time was 8 minutes, 30 seconds--about a 7.06 miles-per-hour pace. But a pretty stiff south wind was blowing and as I paddled toward the mouth of the harbor into that wind, I knew I wouldn't be going that fast in this first piece. I struggled to keep my speed above 6.5 mph and finished the mile in 8:57.
I left the harbor and started paddling up the Mississippi. I let myself recover from the first piece until I reached the Hernando DeSoto Bridge, and then tried to keep my speed above 5 mph from the bridge up to the mouth of the Wolf River. It wasn't that hard at the current river level (21.5 feet on the Memphis gauge) because I had lots of good eddies along the Tennessee bank, not to mention that wind at my back. For much of my trip upriver I was above 6 mph and I even hit 7 mph once or twice.
When the Mississippi is flowing at a fairly high level it backs up into the Wolf for at least several miles, so yesterday I could count on flatwater with no current on the Wolf. When I reached the power lines that mark the start of the Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race, I started my second one-mile piece. Now the wind was still mostly at my back, so I had no trouble maintaining a speed just over 7 mph. My time was right on target at 8:27.
Once the piece was over I continued up the Wolf at an easy pace for four minutes, then turned around and started my third mile. Now I was paddling into a headwind at times, but the Wolf's forested banks shielded me from the worst of it. When the wind pushed against me I tried to relax and keep my speed as close to 7 mph as I could so I wouldn't lose too much time. In the end I was just about on the dot again with a time of 8:28.
After a couple of hundred meters of easy paddling I was back at the power lines just above the Wolf's mouth. Doing a G.P.S.-regulated piece down the Mississippi wouldn't work because of the help I'd be getting from the big river's current, so I did something a little different: I timed myself from the power lines down to the H.D. Bridge. This stretch is the first two miles or so of the OICK race course. During the race each year I try to look at my split when I reach the bridge, and I think my fastest ever was around 10:40 or so. With the south wind blowing and fatigue setting in from the previous pieces, I wasn't counting on anything that fast yesterday; I figured anything under 12 minutes wouldn't be bad. Trying to paddle at the same intensity of my mile pieces, I reached the bridge in 11:32.
I was now seriously tired, but I had one piece left to go: another one-miler back in the harbor. For this one I would have the wind entirely at my back, so I knew that as long as I took good strokes and kept the pace right at 7.1 mph I would make my time goal. And I did, clocking 8:20. In retrospect, I think 8:30 was a good target pace for the workout: in a pace workout you want a target pace that's slightly out of your comfort zone, but not too far out because you have to be able to maintain it from the start of the workout to the finish.
When I finished the last piece I had just a half-mile or so back to the dock, and I paddled easy to cool down. The Rhodes College crew was out on the water in three four-man shells, and it was nice to see people besides myself pursuing excellence in human-powered craft in our lovely harbor.
If it hadn't been for the pesky wind, we'd have had what my friend Joe likes to call "chamber of commerce weather" yesterday--sunny and beautiful, in other words. This morning it was sunny and beautiful once again, but the wind was blowing even harder. I tried to stay relaxed and not let the wind alter my behavior as I set out for a hard-earned recovery paddle. From the marina I paddled north (downwind) first and spoke to some of the turtles who were back out sunning themselves. Then I turned around and paddled south into the wind, reminding myself that I was in no hurry to get anywhere and that paddling harder was unnecessary. I finished the 60-minute session with a wind-aided return to the dock.
Races took place elsewhere yesterday as well. It felt as though I were the only person sitting at home not racing. All the more reason to get out on my home water and work it as if there were no tomorrow.
The next several races I'm likely to attend are somewhat long, so I went down to the river yesterday planning to do some pace work. After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I started the first of a few one-mile pieces. My goal time was 8 minutes, 30 seconds--about a 7.06 miles-per-hour pace. But a pretty stiff south wind was blowing and as I paddled toward the mouth of the harbor into that wind, I knew I wouldn't be going that fast in this first piece. I struggled to keep my speed above 6.5 mph and finished the mile in 8:57.
I left the harbor and started paddling up the Mississippi. I let myself recover from the first piece until I reached the Hernando DeSoto Bridge, and then tried to keep my speed above 5 mph from the bridge up to the mouth of the Wolf River. It wasn't that hard at the current river level (21.5 feet on the Memphis gauge) because I had lots of good eddies along the Tennessee bank, not to mention that wind at my back. For much of my trip upriver I was above 6 mph and I even hit 7 mph once or twice.
When the Mississippi is flowing at a fairly high level it backs up into the Wolf for at least several miles, so yesterday I could count on flatwater with no current on the Wolf. When I reached the power lines that mark the start of the Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race, I started my second one-mile piece. Now the wind was still mostly at my back, so I had no trouble maintaining a speed just over 7 mph. My time was right on target at 8:27.
Once the piece was over I continued up the Wolf at an easy pace for four minutes, then turned around and started my third mile. Now I was paddling into a headwind at times, but the Wolf's forested banks shielded me from the worst of it. When the wind pushed against me I tried to relax and keep my speed as close to 7 mph as I could so I wouldn't lose too much time. In the end I was just about on the dot again with a time of 8:28.
After a couple of hundred meters of easy paddling I was back at the power lines just above the Wolf's mouth. Doing a G.P.S.-regulated piece down the Mississippi wouldn't work because of the help I'd be getting from the big river's current, so I did something a little different: I timed myself from the power lines down to the H.D. Bridge. This stretch is the first two miles or so of the OICK race course. During the race each year I try to look at my split when I reach the bridge, and I think my fastest ever was around 10:40 or so. With the south wind blowing and fatigue setting in from the previous pieces, I wasn't counting on anything that fast yesterday; I figured anything under 12 minutes wouldn't be bad. Trying to paddle at the same intensity of my mile pieces, I reached the bridge in 11:32.
I was now seriously tired, but I had one piece left to go: another one-miler back in the harbor. For this one I would have the wind entirely at my back, so I knew that as long as I took good strokes and kept the pace right at 7.1 mph I would make my time goal. And I did, clocking 8:20. In retrospect, I think 8:30 was a good target pace for the workout: in a pace workout you want a target pace that's slightly out of your comfort zone, but not too far out because you have to be able to maintain it from the start of the workout to the finish.
When I finished the last piece I had just a half-mile or so back to the dock, and I paddled easy to cool down. The Rhodes College crew was out on the water in three four-man shells, and it was nice to see people besides myself pursuing excellence in human-powered craft in our lovely harbor.
If it hadn't been for the pesky wind, we'd have had what my friend Joe likes to call "chamber of commerce weather" yesterday--sunny and beautiful, in other words. This morning it was sunny and beautiful once again, but the wind was blowing even harder. I tried to stay relaxed and not let the wind alter my behavior as I set out for a hard-earned recovery paddle. From the marina I paddled north (downwind) first and spoke to some of the turtles who were back out sunning themselves. Then I turned around and paddled south into the wind, reminding myself that I was in no hurry to get anywhere and that paddling harder was unnecessary. I finished the 60-minute session with a wind-aided return to the dock.
Thursday, April 6, 2017
Signs of the season
Joe and I enjoyed a calm, sunny, 70-degrees-Fahrenheit morning on Tuesday. We did a loop of the harbor in 80 minutes or so.
Last night a front moved through the region with some pretty vicious winds, and this morning the temperature was in the 50s on its way to a high in the mid 60s. A brisk northwest wind made things chilly indeed, but the sun shone and as far as the harbor's flora and fauna were concerned, it was still spring. The turtles were out in full force, sunning themselves on floating logs along the banks.
Typically when some turtles on a log see me coming, the majority of them file off into the water, acting very cute as they make little "ploop-ploop-ploop" sounds. But one or two turtles boldly remain on the log, not about to let somebody like me make them abandon their sunbathing bliss. Today I saw a log with nineteen--nineteen!--turtles on it, and not a single one of them fled. They just stood their ground, still as stone, and regarded me warily.
I love our turtles.
I warmed up by paddling to the north end of the harbor, and did three 8-stroke sprints. Then I did ten 30-second sprints at three-minute intervals. I felt a bit tired in the boat but tried my best to focus on technique. In particular, I tried to make a nice clean transition from inserting the blade into the water to pulling on the paddle. This isn't hard to do when paddling at a moderate pace, but when you're paddling hard it's easy to get a little sloppy with this transition if you're careless. It's also easy to get sloppy toward the end of a workout when fatigue is setting in, and I tried to avoid that today.
I did my current strength routine Monday and yesterday, and plan to do it again tomorrow.
Last night a front moved through the region with some pretty vicious winds, and this morning the temperature was in the 50s on its way to a high in the mid 60s. A brisk northwest wind made things chilly indeed, but the sun shone and as far as the harbor's flora and fauna were concerned, it was still spring. The turtles were out in full force, sunning themselves on floating logs along the banks.
Typically when some turtles on a log see me coming, the majority of them file off into the water, acting very cute as they make little "ploop-ploop-ploop" sounds. But one or two turtles boldly remain on the log, not about to let somebody like me make them abandon their sunbathing bliss. Today I saw a log with nineteen--nineteen!--turtles on it, and not a single one of them fled. They just stood their ground, still as stone, and regarded me warily.
I love our turtles.
I warmed up by paddling to the north end of the harbor, and did three 8-stroke sprints. Then I did ten 30-second sprints at three-minute intervals. I felt a bit tired in the boat but tried my best to focus on technique. In particular, I tried to make a nice clean transition from inserting the blade into the water to pulling on the paddle. This isn't hard to do when paddling at a moderate pace, but when you're paddling hard it's easy to get a little sloppy with this transition if you're careless. It's also easy to get sloppy toward the end of a workout when fatigue is setting in, and I tried to avoid that today.
I did my current strength routine Monday and yesterday, and plan to do it again tomorrow.
Sunday, April 2, 2017
Keeping it going
I'm getting down to the water on my regular schedule, but it's had a going-through-the-motions feel as my out-of-the-boat life continues to monopolize my attention. I think as long as I stick to the routine it'll all settle down eventually and I'll be able to give paddling the attention it deserves. One thing I should probably do is sit at my desk and draw up a more specific workout schedule so I won't just be winging it every time I get in the boat. It would also help for me to make up my mind on what competitions to attend. As I mentioned earlier, there are races later this month on consecutive weekends and I probably don't have the time or the money or the energy to go to both. One is back down on the Gulf Coast, and I know there will be people there I enjoy seeing. The other one is in eastern Kentucky, a region where I've never really raced before, and I like it when the sport takes me to new places.
This past week I did a loop of the harbor with Joe on Tuesday; paddled in some fierce south winds on Thursday; and got in a decent but tiring 90 minutes yesterday. Even during periods like this when I feel a bit rudderless, I focus on taking good strokes. Always good strokes.
This past week I did a loop of the harbor with Joe on Tuesday; paddled in some fierce south winds on Thursday; and got in a decent but tiring 90 minutes yesterday. Even during periods like this when I feel a bit rudderless, I focus on taking good strokes. Always good strokes.
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