Holding myself together, if only just barely

I went back to the chiropractor Monday afternoon and she worked on my neck some more.  This time I think I'm detecting some slight improvement.  The discomfort is still there but it's not quite as intense as it was all last week.

There's no question that stress is a factor.  The medical field is learning more and more about the mental health toll perpetrated on Americans this year by the COVID-19 pandemic, the economic downturn, and the nightmare of an election season (for which next Tuesday might be nothing more than a segue into a new nightmare).  I've been hanging in there, and I'd like to tell you I'm above all the chaos and woe, but the truth is that I'm just as susceptible to feelings of gloom and doom as anybody.  It's taking some real willpower and concentration to make myself relax and not brood over it all.  I have the added concern of my mother's health: though she had a successful surgery a few weeks ago, she still needs several months of chemotherapy, and she's starting that today.

At the moment I'm not feeling particularly motivated to go race this weekend, but that's actually probably the best thing I could do.  And I'm pretty confident that once I'm out of town I'll get myself focused.  Racing among distractions is a skill that you can improve with experience.  All those hundreds of times I've gotten out and raced or done a hard workout when I wasn't feeling a hundred percent rarin' to go have prepared me for just this kind of weekend.

On Tuesday I did a round of the strength routine and then joined Joe down at the dock.  Joe was having a busy day at work so we just paddled to the north end of the harbor and back.  Today I went back to the river and paddled for 50 minutes, doing six 12-stroke sprints at two-minute intervals.

I haven't seen any sunshine here in just about a week.  This week started with overcast skies, and yesterday the outer bands of Hurricane Zeta dumped quite a bit of rain on the Mid South.  This morning I paddled in a sloppy drizzle driven by a stiff south wind.  The rain is supposed to move out and the temperature is supposed to drop.

Meanwhile Susan Jordan, my partner in a tandem surfski this weekend, tells me the hurricane gave sort of a beating to her property in southern Mississippi, and I don't know just yet what impact that'll have on our weekend plans.  The good news is that the current forecast calls for mostly-sunny skies and a high of 73 degrees Fahrenheit down at Orange Beach, Alabama, on Saturday.  If Susan and I do in fact make the trip, I hope it'll be a welcome break from thinking about my mother's health, the greater public health, and the fate of my nation.

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Monday photo feature

It's the spring of 2017, and my niece Rachel and I are paddling on a breezy day at Dauphin Island on the Alabama Gulf Coast.

My plan is to be a few miles to the east of here, across Mobile Bay, this Saturday.  I'm signed up to participate in the Skull Harbor Canoe and Kayak Race at Orange Beach.

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Trying to stay focused as the warm weather says so long

Long-time readers who have paid close attention know that Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday are my normal paddling days.  Yes, I am stubbornly regimented.

But I made an alteration this weekend.  On Friday we were still having that balmy weather that we'd had all week here, but a cold front was scheduled to come through overnight and make things chilly for the weekend.  So, after doing a round of the strength routine Friday morning, I headed for the river.  The air was muggy and the temperature was headed above 80 degrees Fahrenheit.

I was hoping to find some barge traffic out on the Mississippi since it was possibly the last day of the year warm enough for aggressive surfing.  But when I reached the mouth of the harbor, all I saw was an upstream-moving rig well above the Hernando DeSoto Bridge and another rig drifting downriver with its engines barely running at all.  I pursued the southbound tow hoping it might eventually fire up its engines, and in fact it did, but the waves were confused and my arms, tired from the strength work, didn't have a lot of punch in them.  Soon I was heading back to the dock to complete a 60-minute paddle.

The front came through late Friday night with some stiff winds, and yesterday was drizzly and bleak with a high of no more than 55 degrees.  I gave myself some much needed rest.  The weather wasn't much better today, but I felt a whole lot fresher.  With a race coming up next weekend, I wanted to do some short fast stuff in the boat.  I did eight 12-stroke sprints at two-minute intervals, and then paddled a strong tempo for the rest of the hour.

My neck-muscle woes continue.  I'll be picking back up with the chiropractor tomorrow.

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Trying to stay positive as too many signs point negative

This week the weather is unseasonably warm, the temperature rising above 80 degrees Fahrenheit.  But the forecast is showing much cooler weather by the weekend.

It's hard to describe my reflections on this year.  I've heard many people talk about how 2020 feels like it's dragging on forever, and there are moments when I feel that way too.  And yet it seems like the summer just sort of came and went right under my nose.  I engaged in none of the usual travel or adventure, and the lonely days became lonely weeks and... here I am, watching the weather get cooler and cooler and the daylight hours get shorter and shorter.

I mentioned over the weekend that it's about time to break out the cold-weather paddling clothes.  The days of shorts and short sleeves are about over.  So are the days of going out and surfing barge wakes: I'm much less willing to do that in the wintertime because of the hypothermia risk.

It's a little depressing, to be honest.  I suppose I could fly back to South Africa and have fun there while the northern hemisphere shivers, but I'm afraid it's going to be at least another year before I feel comfortable cramming myself onto an airplane with a hundred or more other people.  Maybe I'll find time for a trip to Florida sometime this winter.

Adding to my glum feeling is this pain in my neck that I can't seem to get rid of.  I saw my chiropractor Monday afternoon and she made some adjustments and did some deep massage, but so far there has been no improvement.  I'm scheduled to go back once a week for the next while, and I hope she can work the same magic she did with the plantar fasciitis I had for several years.

Yesterday morning I did a round of the strength routine before joining Joe for a loop of the harbor.  I felt tired and our pace was even more leisurely than usual, and it took us a full 80 minutes to make the circuit.

This morning I went back to the river to do my last hard workout before I race on the Alabama Gulf Coast a week from this Saturday.  My plan was to do some intervals of 75 seconds on, 45 seconds off, paddling each "on" period at sub-maximal intensity.

Meanwhile, the current balmy weather also had me longing for a last bit of surfing before winter settles in. So I made a deal with myself: if I found some barge traffic on the river, I would do eight of these intervals, and take a "break" from the workout to do some surfing; if the river was empty, then I would do ten intervals.

After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I headed out onto the Mississippi and saw a barge rig coming down from far upriver.  So I started my workout while paddling upstream along the Tennessee bank.  This 75/45 workout is an exhausting lactic-tolerance sort of affair, but I attacked it with gusto knowing I would have a "play workout" respite.  By the time the barge rig reached me, I'd done six intervals.

Alas, my surf session turned out to be a dud.  The waves behind the towboat were small, fast-moving, and wandering all over the place.  And while my lungs were up to the hard sprints that surfing requires, my arm muscles were not because of the lactic acid I'd built up in them.

After a few minutes of trying my best, I headed back to the harbor.  There I did four more of my 75/45 intervals.  So I ended up doing ten of them after all.  As hard as that workout is, it's also over quickly.  After finishing the last one I paddled back to the dock with my mood elevated from the endorphin therapy.

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Monday photo feature

Jennifer Hearn of Bethesda, Maryland, navigates an upstream gate during the Nantahala Doubleheader whitewater slalom race in 1997.  The old Doubleheader event took place each year in March, and was attended by many of the nation's top racers looking to tune up for the U.S. Team Trials later in the spring.

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Cool weather, some intense paddling, and a pain in the neck

Yesterday was a textbook brisk fall day.  The sun shone bright all day, but the Fahrenheit temperature started in the mid 40s and hadn't reached 60 yet when I went down to paddle.

I got down to the dock and realized that my summertime in-the-boat attire of swim trunks and a short-sleeve shirt weren't going to be adequate.  But it was all I had, so I grinned and bore it for 60 minutes.  There was a chilly breeze blowing and I was never entirely comfortable out there.

Today dawned quite a bit warmer and cloudy, with occasional light showers.  Once in the boat I warmed up and did three 8-stroke sprints in the harbor, and then headed out onto the Mississippi for my workout.  I did twelve two-minute pieces in which I paddled a moderate pace (about 6.5 miles per hour on flatwater) for 60 seconds, a faster pace (7.0-7.5 mph) for 30 seconds, and a sub-maximal pace (over 8.0 mph) for 30 seconds.  I did the pieces back-to-back--in other words, that moderate-paced first 60 seconds counted as my recovery interval.  I did five of them while paddling upriver along the Tennessee bank, four of them coming back downriver, and the last three on the flatwater of the harbor.

The workout went reasonably well and I felt strong throughout.  Unfortunately, I'm not feeling so hot out of the boat.  That soreness and tightness in the right side of my neck continues and it's making me somewhat miserable as I go about my day.  I think I'm going to have to step up the frequency of my visits to the chiropractor and see if we get whatever this is ironed out.

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Looking for a higher gear

On Tuesday I did a round of the strength routine and then joined Joe for a loop of the harbor.  Both Tuesday and Wednesday were gorgeous fall days: sunny skies with a Fahrenheit temperature rising from the mid 50s at sunrise to the mid 70s by the afternoon.

Yesterday morning the sky was clear as the sun rose, but it quickly clouded up and the day had a gloomy feel by the time I was heading for the river in the mid morning.  When I raced on the Ohio River several weeks earlier I seemed to lack a higher gear, and when I got in the boat yesterday I intended to do a workout to address that.  After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I did four bridge-to-bridge sprints.

I've come to dread this workout a little bit because, well, it hurts.  And I also tend to beat myself up if I don't achieve my fastest times in the sprints.  I keep having to remind myself that consistency is what really matters.  And yesterday's sprints were consistent, or at least the first three of them were: 2:04, 2:05, 2:07.  By the fourth one I was starting to fall apart and could manage only 2:11.  It felt like both the third and fourth were done into a stronger headwind, though it's possible that was just my imagination.

I didn't adhere to a strict recovery interval.  In the past I've made it five minutes, and that required me to waste little time getting back to the monorail bridge to start the next sprint.  Yesterday I didn't dawdle, but my recovery interval was probably more like six or seven minutes.

Today it is sunny once more but quite cool: the high temperature isn't expected to be above 63 or 64.  I did another round of the strength routine this morning.

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Monday photo feature

It's been a strange race season, if you can even call it a race season.  For me it began on another continent back in February: the "Sea Dog" race at Fish Hoek Beach in South Africa.

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Doing a little of everything

I'm signed up for what will probably be my last race of 2020.  My friend Susan Jordan of Lucedale, Mississippi, asked if I would join her in a tandem surfski for the Skull Harbor Canoe and Kayak Race at Orange Beach, Alabama, on October 31.  I saw no reason not to, and so it's now on my schedule.

Meanwhile, here in the Memphis area the outer bands of Hurricane Delta moved in Friday, with the heavy precipitation arriving in the early hours of Saturday morning.  I woke up to sloppy, wet, blustery conditions.  The rain had abated by the time I was heading for the river around 9:30 AM, but the Internet radar indicated it would be back.

As I walked down the ramp to the marina, I saw Joe and his wife Carol Lee paddling their tandem boat toward the north end of the harbor.  So when I got my boat in the water I headed north too so I would meet them on their way back south.  After a 10-minute warmup I did a set of three 8-stroke sprints.  I also spent some time picking up litter: the rain had washed a whole bunch of garbage into the harbor, and I focused on aluminum cans because the grocery store near the marina has a collection bin for cans.  Whatever pennies the recycler pays for them goes to the Humane Society.

So I had a footwell full of cans by the time I saw Joe and Carol Lee coming back down.  I turned and fell in alongside them.  We paddled down to the mouth of the harbor and headed up the Mississippi River along the Tennessee bank.  A barge rig was coming downriver and we decided to continue upstream until the vessel had passed us, and then head back downstream.

I headed for the towboat's wake and found some interesting conditions: not exactly easy to ride, but rideable nevertheless.  The waves were changing rapidly and I had to be on my toes to prolong each ride as much as possible.  My footwell full of cans gave me some extra motivation to keep the boat upright.

I kept thinking about what Dawid Mocke had told me in South Africa last February: "Put your nose in the hole (the trough), and then try to keep it in the hole as the hole moves around."  I had some success doing that in this particular set of barge waves.

I reunited with Joe and Carol Lee at the mouth of the harbor, and we headed back toward the dock.  The rain was picking up, and the gusty north wind was blowing it at an angle of maybe 50 degrees with the horizontal.

All told, I paddled for just shy of two hours, during which I visited with a couple of friends, gathered a footwell-load of aluminum cans, did a few hard sprints, and got some practice with balance, control, and mobility in the waves.  If that's not a successful morning of paddling, I'd like to know what is.

The rain really began to pour as I put my boat away and changed into dry clothes.  By the time I got up to my car in the parking lot, my clothes weren't dry anymore.  I drove home and changed clothes again.

The rain had mostly moved out by the end of the day yesterday.  This morning there was just a fine drizzle falling, and that was gone by the time I was in my boat.  I warmed up and did another three 8-strokers, and then commenced a pace workout: four 2000-meter pieces with 500 meters recovery in between.  My target pace was 7.0 miles per hour for each piece.  There was enough wind blowing to make that difficult at times, but I maintained it without much trouble for most of the workout.  My remaining workouts between now and October 31 will likely be shorter and faster.

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The pep in my step is slowly returning

On Tuesday I did a round of my new strength routine and then headed downtown to paddle a loop of the harbor with Joe.

I'd visited my chiropractor on Monday and she did some work on my neck area, where I'd been experiencing discomfort all weekend.  But the pain has continued--it's not as intense as before, but it still nags at me.

Nevertheless, by yesterday I was feeling energetic enough for some greater intensity in the boat, and what ensued was the most enjoyable and satisfying paddling session I've had in a while.

I warmed up and did a set of three 8-stroke sprints, and then paddled out of the harbor hoping to find some wavy fun on the Mississippi.  What I found was an upstream-moving barge rig that was passing beneath the Hernando DeSoto Bridge.  I surged hard upriver for maybe 1000 meters along the Tennessee bank to gain as much ground on it as I could.  Once I was a short distance above the bridge I ferried out to catch as much of the towboat's wake as possible.  I was a couple of hundred meters behind the barge by the time I got out there, and the waves were beginning to diminish, but I managed to get a few brief rides.  As the commercial vessel moved more and more distant, I hung out to see what might develop.  Barge wakes do some funny things: they'll die down to nothing but then rally with a set of well-defined waves; or they'll wander back and forth across the river so that one moment they're on your left, and the next they're on your right.  I've learned to hang tight and see what "comes to me," and a couple of times something good did come.

Meanwhile, there was another barge rig coming downriver.  So I waited and then fell in behind it.  The water was boily and confused, partly because the pilot was sweeping out an arc as he maneuvered beneath the HDB, and my challenge was to react to the rapidly-changing conditions beneath my boat.

As I played around with that I looked downriver and saw yet another rig coming upstream.  So I rode the conditions behind the down-bound vessel just below the HDB and then paddled over to see what I get from this newcomer.  Here I found the morning's best conditions by far.  I was able to link runs together several times and watch my speed increase with each successful attempt.  And so once again I made the best of things even though I don't have a Miller's Run or a Columbia Gorge in my backyard.

I returned to the harbor and paddled back to the dock with a pleasant fatigue seasoned with endorphins and a bit of adrenaline.  Moments like that are a huge part of why I paddle.

Today I did another round of the strength routine.  It seems likely that at least some of my weekend paddling will take place in the rain, as the remnants of Hurricane Delta are headed this way as I type.

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A new strength routine

1.  Pushups

2.  Plank crunches (demonstrated at 4:03 of this video)

3.  Rubber band exercises: flies and reverse flies

4.  Hindu squats (demonstrated in this video)

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Monday photo feature

Back in 2008 I made a trip to Ocracoke Island on the Outer Banks of North Carolina. 

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Pushing through the doldrums

I've continued to lack much get-up-and-go this weekend.  I guess I'm just tired, or maybe I have an extremely mild cold or something.  (I have not had any of the common COVID-19 symptoms--dry cough, numb tastebuds, anything like that.)  My neck discomfort has improved slightly, perhaps, but it's still unpleasant.

Oh well... slow periods like this do happen.  I'm responding to it with unstructured 60-minute sessions on the river.  No 8-stroke sprints or drills or anything; I'm just going out there and doing whatever I feel like.

I would have liked to do some wake surfing this week, but the river was free of commercial traffic every time I went out.  Finally today there was a barge rig moving upstream as I paddled out of the harbor.  It had an odd set of waves trailing behind it: the first few off the towboat's stern had such low amplitude the they weren't really surfable at all.  Then I found some nice ones a bit farther back, and got a couple of fun rides.  After that the waves died quickly as the rig moved farther and farther upriver.  It was nice to get a little bit of something, and by the time I was back on the dock I felt more upbeat and energetic than before.

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Stuck in the mud

I've spent this week feeling really lethargic and out of sorts.  A notable symptom is sort of a foggy, scatterbrained feeling.  Normally I wake up a little before 6 AM, but a couple of times this week I've slept almost a half-hour later.  I'm usually tired at the end of a race weekend, but I can't believe my trip up to the Ohio River did such a number on me that I'm still recovering five days later.  Maybe my body is fighting off some kind of bug... hopefully not the one that's hogged the headlines for the last ten months.

On Monday I did very little besides finish unpacking my stuff from the trip and put it away.  I had to miss my usual Tuesday paddle with Joe to drive my mother to the doctor for some followup to her surgery.  She seems to be doing quite well, for you thoughtful folks who are wondering about that.

Mom's appointment wasn't until late morning, so I took the opportunity to start easing into a new strength routine.  I haven't drawn up a complete routine yet, but I did a couple of sets of pushups and Hindu squats.

Not having done any leg work for quite a while, I felt the impact of those Hindu squats the rest of the day Tuesday, and by Wednesday morning my thighs were wicked sore.  I got in the boat for the first time since Sunday and did a fairly easy paddle out on the Mississippi, which has dropped below zero on the Memphis gauge as it typically does in the late summer and fall.

The thigh soreness continued through yesterday.  This morning there was still some soreness, but it had eased enough for me to do another round of work.  I did the same things I did Tuesday plus some rubber band exercises.  I'll share my routine here once I get it fleshed out.

After the strength work I got back in the boat and paddled steady for 60 minutes.  My torpid feelings persist today, but I will say that both Wednesday and today I felt better after paddling than before.

In the latter half of the week a new malady asserted itself: a bad crick in the right side of my neck.  I have a routine appointment with my chiropractor scheduled for next Thursday, but if this neck pain isn't gone by Monday morning I might have to call and see if I can get that moved up.

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