7

On this day in 2012, My Training Blog by Elmore put up its very first post.  At the time I didn't have any particular goals for the blog's duration.  I'd have been perfectly happy to abandon it after a few months if it turned out to be more of a hassle than I cared for.

Yet here I am still doing it seven years later.  The main idea hasn't changed since that first day: I post the stuff I do, day by day and week by week, for people to read or not read as they are so moved.  But having put up one thousand three hundred twenty-nine posts over 2557 days, perhaps I'm ready to articulate some "greater purpose."


1.  First and foremost, the purpose of this blog is to share ideas.  Never would I suggest that readers abandon their own methods and adopt mine.  I mean... why would they?  It's not like I'm a world-class athlete or even one of the best in my own country.

Just like it says at the top of the page, this blog is simply an example of what one guy does.  And just about everything I do in this sport is something I learned from somebody else at some point.  Either it was shown to me by a coach or a fellow paddler, or I picked it up while watching other athletes.

So read this blog with a desire for self-examination.  If you see something you like here, go ahead and incorporate it into your own training.  And if you know a way to accomplish something that's better than what I'm doing, by all means, tell me.  Let's all grow, and maybe even advance the sport, together.


2.  This blog is written by an athlete, for athletes, about being an athlete.  There's something about the word "athlete" that unnerves some people.  And there's kind of a mostly-implicit debate about who is an athlete and who is not.

In the way sports are covered in our society, I detect a prevailing attitude that the word athlete  cannot apply to the average person.  I feel fairly certain that the typical Memphian does not consider somebody like me an athlete.  I've even been told, once or twice, some variation of "You're not an athlete.  The guys on the Memphis Grizzlies are athletes.  You're just some schmo who likes to play around in a silly boat."

Frankly, I pity such people who have to put somebody down like that to feel validated.  But that's a topic for another time.  For now I'll just say that speakers of such sentiments are wrong.  They don't get it.

Whether you're an athlete isn't something that can be measured by how much you get paid, or how many products you endorse, or how many fans you have.  Being an athlete is a state of mind.  It starts with a simple curiosity about what you can do with your body, what the limits are, how good you can be.  You then organize your daily life in such a way as to satisfy that curiosity.  You make time to get your workouts in.  You pay attention to your general health--a good diet and adequate sleep, stuff like that.  You take your sport seriously and try to do it a little better each day than you did the day before.

If you become the kind of athlete who has lots of fans and even people willing to pay you... hey, that's great.  But the only person who has to care about what you're doing is you.  And I hope you'll find something in this blog that gives you a boost.


3.  This blog is about Memphis.  My hometown.  Where more than 90 percent of my paddling takes place.

A sizable portion of our citizenry believes that anybody who would get in a kayak or canoe and paddle it should be locked up in a padded cell.  Perhaps even more frustrating, however, are the people who think paddling is in fact a neat idea, but are infected with this bizarre belief that it's something you have to go someplace else to do--namely some chic resort in the mountains or on the seashore.

I happen to believe that you can and should paddle regularly no matter where you are.  You'll gain a unique familiarity with the natural world where you live, and you'll develop solid skills that will be there for you anyplace in the world you choose to visit.

And I think my hometown is ideal for paddling.  Do I suggest that my home water is one of the best places to paddle in the world?  Well, no... but then again, maybe I should.  Our local river is the biggest in North America, after all.

When I look out over the Memphis riverfront, I see a paddling mecca that could be.  Every time I put my boat in the water at Harbortown Marina, I embark on a session that might include everything from the flatwater in the harbor to occasional offshore-like conditions out on the Mississippi River.  In the same day I might find myself paddling in an urban setting (downtown Memphis) and semi-remote wilderness (the Loosahatchie Chute, the bottom miles of the Wolf River, the more distant reaches of the Mississippi beyond the city).

And of course, we have a second-to-none race event, the annual Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race.

Sometimes I wish open-water paddlers would flock to my city like they do to Hawaii, or Florida, or the Columbia River Gorge.  Sometimes I wish the city itself would embrace the incredible recreational opportunities that our riverfront offers.  And then other times I'm happy to have the place mostly to myself.  Whatever the case, I'm going to keep paddling my boat here--leading by example, as it were--and representing my town the best I can whenever I race.


4.  This blog is about the world.  While I loyally paddle my home water, I'm also fascinated with everyplace else.  That's one of the biggest reasons I like to race: it gets me out of town to visit other parts of the region and the country a few times a year.  The world is full of beautiful places, none more so than the places people paddle.

Every time I travel someplace, I imagine what it would be like if I lived there.  I imagine what my paddling routine would be and how I would have to organize my life to make it possible.  This mental exercise helps me notice a lot of the more innocuous qualities of a place.  It also almost always deepens my appreciation for what I have at home.

And, canoe and kayak racing takes me to some fascinating places I might not otherwise visit--places like the Missouri Ozarks, the Cumberland Plateau region of Kentucky, and the Louisiana Bayou.


5.  This blog is about the mundane.  At the top of the page it says I'm a canoe and kayak racer.  That means I go to races.  Each time I attend a race I try to post an entertaining summary here that captures all the moment-by-moment drama of the event.  But races aren't really the main point of this blog.  Sure, races are fun and exciting, but they comprise no more than eight or ten days out of an entire year.

The rest of the time, it's just me in my boat.  I paddle because I want to do well in the races, but that alone isn't enough to get me out there week in and week out, all year long.  Mostly I paddle because I love to paddle.  In this blog I try to celebrate our sport as something simply to devote ourselves to and enjoy, an everyday enhancement to the richness of our lives.

Jon Lugbill, an American whitewater slalom canoeist who won five world championships, once said: "It's not worth suffering to get to an end.  The means must be enjoyable."  I don't consider the training I do to be a great sacrifice or an ordeal that must be endured.  I like it.  It's a part of my life and a part of who I am.


So, there you go... the essence of this blog, at least as I interpret it.  I can't overstate my gratitude to every single soul who takes the time to read this thing.  Let's see if I can make it another seven years.