"Good performers practice until they get it right. Great performers practice until they can't get it wrong."
The director of the handbell group I play in shared this saying recently. In his context the "performers" are musicians, but I think the saying applies to just about everything that requires skill, and paddling is certainly one such thing.
Why do professional athletes and Olympic hopefuls put in the unbelievable number of hours of training that they do? Sure, each athlete wants to be the fittest and the strongest and the toughest, but ultimately it all comes down to being able to step out on the big stage in front of television cameras and huge crowds and just do what he or she does every day. A pro basketball player doesn't know how not to dribble and pass and shoot. A major league baseball pitcher doesn't know how not to throw a major-league-caliber pitch. And an elite-level canoe and kayak racer doesn't know how not to get the boat up to speed quickly and efficiently and take good strokes and make good moves.
Bill Endicott, the U.S. whitewater team coach from the 1970s into the 1990s, pushed his athletes to do not just a healthy volume of training, but as much of that training as possible in their race boats to achieve the maximum possible sensation of what they would be doing in competition. Other activities like running and lifting weights were all well and good, he said, but they should be done in addition to, never instead of, one's in-the-boat training. So I would say Endicott was a believer in the above saying.
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If you've been following this blog lately, then you know that I've been taking a long training break, paddling on weekends but doing very little else. The reasons include exhaustion from my summer trip to New England, ongoing muscle and nerve woes, a pile of work to do at my rental property, renewed enthusiasm for projects in my woodworking shop, and philosophical questions about my whole athletic identity as I push ever closer to the end of my sixth decade on this Earth.
This is not really anything new. I've taken a training break almost every year around this time, albeit not as long as this one. And every year I've found it in me to get moving again by and by. Even though I believe the rest is something my body and brain need, eventually I start feeling like a slug and miss the positive energy that physical activity gives me. So, having wrapped up several other items of business, I picked this past week to get a new routine going.
What does this new routine entail? Mostly out-of-the-boat stuff, in spite of Bill Endicott's advice. Keep in mind that Endicott was working primarily with athletes in their physical prime who were hoping to compete in the world championships and Olympic Games. At this point I am not that kind of athlete, if I ever even was. No, considering my age and my spinal/orthopedic challenges, I think general fitness is what I need to focus on at this time. This past week that included some bike riding--60 to 70 minutes of medium-intensity riding on Monday and Wednesday. On Tuesday and Thursday I went over to the park near my home and did some running (just a few minutes on grass, plus a few intervals up stairs) and some medicine ball work (a couple of abdominal exercises and some power tosses). By the end of the week I was tired and a bit sore, but elated to be doing something again. Getting started is always the hardest part: it isn't until the second or third session that you have a really good feel for the activities you're doing, how long it will take, how hard it will be, and so on. We had some unseasonably warm weather early last week, and that made getting started feel a little easier. Now that I've got a routine locked in it'll be easier to get out and get it done even on days when the weather isn't so inviting.
Of course, paddling will always figure at least a little bit into what I'm doing, and I'm still getting in the boat on the weekends. Last weekend I had a work-related event Saturday and couldn't paddle, but I made it to the river Sunday. The Mississippi had come up to -5.60 feet on the Memphis gauge--still a very low level, but about six and a half feet higher than the record low set last month. For the first time since August, my dock was usable:
But I'm not expecting super-high water anytime soon. The Corps of Engineers said this week that it expects the low river stages to last well into the winter. Apparently one of the effects of the El Niño pattern we're currently having is dry conditions in the Midwest, and that's where most of the water comes from that flows by Memphis.
At least there's enough water for paddling a boat. I was back out there yesterday, doing another typical 60-minute paddle. I kept the intensity moderate and thought a lot about stroke mechanics, particularly keeping my core muscles involved. I aimed for a low-ish stroke rate, but did so by feel rather than count strokes or use a cadence sensor.
And that's just how it is right now, and how it's likely to be for the foreseeable future: lots of medium-intensity base work, technical practice, and general fitness. Right now I can't say what my goals are for the coming year: I have a couple of ideas floating around in my head, but it'll be several months before I have a better idea of what the year 2024 has in store. As long as I build up some good base fitness, it won't be too hard to get myself in a higher level of shape once the picture becomes more clear.
I paddled again this afternoon, when I was tired from a long day. I thought for sure I was going to feel awful in the boat, but once I got moving I felt remarkably good. Once again I tried to take good strokes with all muscle groups firing in unison. As is so often the case, paddling turned out to be the best thing I did all day.
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