No race for me this weekend

Well, the shoulder has felt quite a bit worse in the last couple of days, and I've decided it's not a good idea to go up to Missouri and do a 12-mile race this weekend.  It was a hard decision to make because I really, really wanted to check out this event.  There's a whole series of races up in the Missouri River watershed each year and I've never done any of them, and I was looking forward to seeing how I would do against unfamiliar competition.

But after doing my strength routine yesterday I could feel increased pain, and the pain bothered me a lot when I paddled this morning.  I'd planned to paddle for 60 minutes and do my usual pre-race sprints and stuff like that, but in the end I returned to the dock after 40 minutes.

Tomorrow, instead of driving up to the greater Jefferson City area, I'll be sitting in a doctor's office.  I think the first order of business is getting an MRI or some sort of expert opinion on what this injury is--I'm worried that it's something like a torn rotator cuff.  I've had more than my share of aches and pains over the years and I've gotten pretty good at self-therapy for many of them, but this one is not in my body of experience.  So I've made an appointment with a sure-enough doctor.


I haven't yet described the new strength routine that I started up last week, so I guess I'll do that now.  It consists of several core exercises on a stability ball and several arm exercises with dumbbells.  I learned the core exercises from this video featuring Chinese Olympic slalom racer Jing-Jing Li.

Starting yesterday, I incorporated several rubber-band exercises that I was hoping would remedy the tender spot in my right deltoid muscle, but seeing as how they might have worsened the problem, I'll have to see what I find out tomorrow before I do them again.

The routine goes like this:

1.  Rubber-band exercises
2.  Exercise where I kneel on the stability ball (not in the Jing-Jing Li video)
3.  Military press with dumbbells while seated on the stability ball
4.  Stability ball exercise shown at 1:03 of the Jing-Jing Li video
5.  Bicep curls while seated on the stability ball
6.  Stability ball exercise shown at 1:57 of the Jing-Jing Li video
7.  Front and lat raises

I guess I'll call this the "April-May Strength Routine," since I plan to do it into the middle of next month before switching to a new routine.

Video advice for my shoulder

I paddled with Joe in the harbor this morning for about 70 minutes.  My right shoulder seemed to hold up well as I paddled, but it feels less than great this evening... not exactly painful, but just sort of weak.  We'll see how the rest of this week plays out.

Coincidentally, I saw a video today on the topic of the shoulder joint and paddling--check it out here. Thanks to U.S. Team whitewater canoe athlete Casey Eichfeld (a guest star in the video) for posting it on Face Book where I would see it.  Starting with tomorrow's strength workout, I think I will start doing a couple of those rubber-band exercises shown in the video.

Monday photo feature

Nothing says "old school" like an aluminum canoe on the Chattooga River.  Travis Trimble (stern) and Clay Nash teeter over Second Ledge on an August day in 1987 when the level was about 0.9 on the U.S. 76 bridge gauge.  Travis shouldn't be grabbing the gunwales, but then again, who wants a thwart in the pelvis?  Photo by Todd Tyler.

The ailment persists

The weather forecasts for today that I saw called for partly to mostly sunny skies and a temperature around 72 degrees Fahrenheit, but what we got instead was an overcast sky, a temperature about 10 degrees colder than predicted, and a stiff wind blowing from the north.  How dare the meteorologists be mistaken?

I still find myself with this mysterious soreness in my right shoulder.  I've spent the past week taking the "active rest" approach, paddling easy and doing exercises with light weights; the soreness has seemed to flare up a bit after exercise but it hasn't really gotten any worse.  Unfortunately, it hasn't gotten any better, either.

Today I decided to push a little harder in the boat just to see what would happen.  In an 80-minute session, I did three 8-stroke sprints and about 40 minutes of ultra-short race pace training.  As I sit here this evening I'm feeling some increased soreness, but no worse than what I felt after the lighter paddling sessions.

So... I don't know what to think about all this.  I still haven't made a call on whether to attend the race this Saturday, but I sure would like to.  I don't guess I really have to make that decision any sooner than Friday.

Proceeding gingerly (cont'd)

My shoulder hasn't gotten any worse, and I really want to believe it's getting a bit better, but it's hard to say for sure.  I spent an easy 40 minutes in the boat this morning and wasn't in any great pain, but the "twinge" is still there.

Yesterday I did some more core exercises on the stability ball and a few upper body exercises with light weights (to avoid aggravating the shoulder).  I think I've put together a decent routine that I will share here shortly.

Proceeding gingerly

For the third day in a row, I'm feeling a painful twinge in the area of my right deltoid muscle.  I'm hoping it's nothing more than some irritation from last week's increased volume--I went from paddling four times a week for most of the year so far to paddling ten times in eleven days, with a fairly high-intensity race effort this past Saturday--and not something more serious like a rotator cuff injury or something like that.  I'm not panicking yet, but I am, well... concerned.  The next race I hope to do is a week from this Saturday: the Osage Paddlesports Spring 12 Race up near Jefferson City, Missouri.  We'll just have to see if I'm ready to go by then.

Oh well.  Today I took my boat back down to the marina and paddled easy for 30 minutes, trying to do the work with my legs and hips and lower torso, and minimize the stress on my arms and shoulders.  It felt good to be back on my home water.  The weather was breezy but otherwise lovely.  I saw a dozen or so turtles piled up on a tiny log, and that made me happy; turtles in general have a way of making me happy.

One thing that's fallen through the cracks this month, with my foot infection and bad reaction to the drugs and all the travel and the racing, is a strength routine.  Yesterday I began easing myself into a new one, doing a few core exercises on the stability ball.  I also did a few arm exercises with very light weights, being careful not to aggravate my shoulder pain.  I'll post the new routine here once I finish working it up; I'll probably do it into the middle of next month, then make up a new one to carry me up to the big Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race on the 20th of June.

Monday photo feature

As I said yesterday, it's good to be home.  My nine-day trip ended nicely--with some coffee and tasty breakfast food at Jimmy Guidry's Hub City Diner.  Photo by Anne Sonnier.

"Be it ever so humble..."

Jimmy Guidry, a paddler whom I've seen at numerous races in the Gulf Coast region, owns Hub City Diner in Lafayette, and this morning he treated Anne and me to breakfast.  I enjoyed talking with him and eating some great food.

After that I said goodbye to Anne and began the trip home.  But before I got too immersed in the journey I wanted to get in a recovery paddle, and there was a good place right off Interstate 10 a few miles east of Lafayette.  Henderson Lake is part of the Atchafalaya Basin, and accessible from a public boat ramp next to an I-10 rest area.

Soreness was surprisingly mild after yesterday's race, but I'm having some pain today in my right deltoid muscle, as if I've strained it a little.  Time will tell, I guess.  I put myself through a low-intensity 60-minute session and enjoyed the first bright and sunny day I've seen since the race at Vicksburg eight days ago.  Henderson Lake is basically a huge forested wetland with a network of open-water channels running through it, and I paddled through several of these channels, being careful not to get lost.  I enjoyed gazing at the many cypress trees with Spanish moss hanging from them.  The coppery-brown tannin-stained water was as smooth as glass.

After paddling I continued the trip home, an affair of some seven hours.  I had earlier considered doing my recovery paddle on one of the reservoirs in north Mississippi--Grenada or Enid or Sardis--but I'm glad I got it done in the early part of the trip instead, because by the time I was on Interstate 55 north of Jackson all I could think about was how bad I wanted to be home.  Now I am home, and there is no place like it.

Photos from Bayou Teche

Anne Sonnier took all kinds of lovely photos during the Top of the Teche race today.  Here are just a few:

I pose with my boat in front of the Leonville water tower prior to the start.

The Pellerin triplets--Carson, Conrad, and Peyton--limber up before paddling a C-3 in the race.

The placid water makes two of me as I approach the finish line.

Adam Economu and Landon Arabie of Bogalusa, Louisiana, took first in the USCA C-2 class.

I show off my award with race director Ray Pellerin.

Racing on the Bayou

Yesterday I got to do a bit of salt-water paddling: Anne drove me down to where the marshes give way to the Gulf at a place called Cypremort Point in Vermillion Bay.  A check of the forecast indicated a likelihood of stormy weather, but the sky brightened as we drove south, and the sun came out later on in our paddling session.  I spent some time giving Anne some stroke instruction that I'd promised, and then we paddled along the shoreline for a bit.  I did five 12-stroke sprints while we were out there, giving my speed a little polish ahead of the next day's race.

And today was Race Day.  We went up to the town of Leonville, and I put my boat on Bayou Teche alongside seventeen other boats for a 7.7-mile race to Arnaudville.  I'd resolved to treat the event as a time trial and I took the pace out hard, pulling away from the pack early.  The bayou was swollen from this week's rains, and I dodged many floating logs, sticks, and twigs as I went along.  I was feeling some fatigue a half-hour or so in, but I managed to hold myself together and take pretty good strokes all the way to a winning time of 57 minutes, 46 seconds.

The weather was overcast, but the temperature was pleasantly warm and there was just enough breeze to cool us off.  The race started right on time and proceeded without a hitch, thanks to race director Ray Pellerin and his crew of volunteers.

The complete results are posted here.

Got me some ink

This past Sunday I was front-page news (albeit below the fold) in The Vicksburg Post.  You can sort of read the article here.

Playin' Cajun

I'm back indoors, staying under the roof of my friend Anne in Lafayette, Louisiana, after several days camping out yonder.

I'd say that moist is a good word to describe southern Louisiana.  I camped in quite a bit of rain, and when it wasn't raining it was anything but dry.  It's fairly damp and humid up in the Memphis area where I live, but I believe it's a whole order of magnitude more so here in bayou country.

Here's a summary of training sessions for the last few days:

Sunday, April 12: 60-minute paddle, Mississippi and Yazoo Rivers on the Vicksburg riverfront.  I was quite tired and sore from Saturday's race, so I kept the intensity low and enjoyed this lovely section of the Big River.

Monday, April 13: 80-minute paddle, Mississippi River at Natchez.  I was still sore in my midsection but managed a stronger distance session with a few good surges.  It was raining steadily when I put in but the rain had stopped by the time I was finished.

Tuesday, April 14: 70-minute paddle, Indian Creek Reservoir near Woodworth, Louisiana.  I wanted to get in at least one good workout this week, and this seemed like the best day.  After warming up and doing three 8-stroke sprints, I did a "pyramid" workout: pieces of one minute, 2 minutes, 3 minutes, 4 minutes, 5 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 2 minutes, one minute with two minutes recovery in between.  I was feeling it pretty good by the five-minute piece and concentrated on keeping solid stroke form through the second half of the workout.  That last two-minute piece was mentally the hardest, I think.

Wednesday, April 15: 80-minute paddle, Big Alabama Bayou in the Atchafalaya Basin near Krotz Springs, Louisiana.  I'm not big on having a "bucket list"--I'd much rather create a life that's satisfying in its every-day routine than always be thinking "I've gotta do this" and "I've gotta do that" for my life to have meaning.  But paddling in the Atchafalaya Basin was something I felt I needed to be able to say I've done, and now I can.  These days bayous like Big Alabama are cut off from the main channel of the Atchafalaya by the levee system, but paddling there was very interesting and it certainly had a remote wilderness feel.  I saw one alligator from a distance, hanging out on a log before sliding into the water upon my approach.  Racing kayaks are rather tippy craft, and mine never feels more so than when there are gators about.

Big Alabama Bayou.

That brings us up to today, and Anne plans to show me some of the tourist sights.  I also owe her a bit of paddling instruction for her hospitality, and we'll get to that in the next couple of days before it's time to race on Saturday.

Sunday photos feature

I've got that usual post-race-day feeling, with plenty of soreness down in my midsection.  I plan to do some easy paddling today to get some blood moving through those muscles and facilitate recovery.

Photographer Paul Ingram took many lovely photos of the Bluz Cruz Canoe and Kayak Race yesterday.  As of this writing he has shared only some of them on Face Book, but since I'm about to go out camping in the wilds of Mississippi and Louisiana and might not be online for a couple of days, I'll share a few here in lieu of this week's Monday Photo Feature.

Kata Dismukes does a systems check prior to a performance that would make her the ladies' champion.  That would be the Hungarian flag on her cockpit.

No race can start without the all-important racers' meeting.  That's me in the background with a navy-blue shirt and white hat on, holding my paddle upright.

There just aren't many places more beautiful than the Mississippi River bathed in morning sunlight.  The conditions would not remain this placid for long.

And... this would be me, trying to get all cylinders firing.

Race report from beautiful Vickburg, Mississippi

Today I competed in the Bluz Cruz Canoe and Kayak Race for the seventh time, I believe.  The race begins on the Mississippi River at Madison Parish Port, Louisiana, and finishes at the Vicksburg riverfront some 22 miles downriver.

Though the river appeared placid at the start, the wind picked up and the river became choppy in the early miles.  They were nuisance conditions at worst, but still required increased concentration to keep the boat on course.  Phil Capel of Sherwood, Arkansas, took the early lead as the C-4 paddled by Andre Pellerin and his triplet sons gave chase over on river left.  Farther to the right side, I was part of a conservative wake-trading pack along with Kata Dismukes and Rick Carter.  We labored along in the left-to-right beam wind, gradually moving into the lead ourselves, until we reached the big bend to the right; here, the river smoothed out considerably and the wind was at our backs.  I managed to open a small gap on my competitors and threw in several surges in an attempt to lengthen it.  As I approached the second big bend in the course, back to the left and toward the city of Vicksburg, I was beginning to feel some fatigue, but I guessed that the others were too after that long struggle with the elements.

I found myself paddling into a headwind on the approach to Vicksburg, but it was mostly a noisy mental distraction in my ears.  Glances over my shoulder continued to indicate that I was alone in first place, and I tried to paddle as efficiently as I could to maintain the lead and conserve energy for the final stretch, a couple of miles up the Yazoo River to the finish line.

As I entered the Yazoo I was at about an hour and 52 minutes, and I knew then that I would not be breaking two hours (my PR in this event is an hour and 56 minutes and change).  I attribute the slower time to both the bumpy conditions and the conservative early pace of our pack.  Though quite tired I still seemed to have good strokes left in me, and as this long slog through flatwater wore on I became more and more confident that I would accomplish the item at the top of my to-do list--win the race.  I crossed the line with a winning time of two hours, 7 minutes, 14 seconds.

At that point I had no idea where my closest competition was, but I quickly found out as I turned around and looked back: Rick Carter, the same guy who got the better of me at Ocean Springs two weeks ago, was not far behind at all.  The South Carolinian crossed the line less than a minute after I had.

Kata Dismukes, a native Hungarian now living in the Memphis suburb of Cordova, was the fastest lady, finishing a very impressive third place overall.  The Pellerin crew, hailing from Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, was next, and Phil Capel rounded out the top five.

Other Memphians who made the trip down here to race were Terrance Strohkirch, who finished sixteenth overall, and Adam Davis, 39th.

The complete results are now posted here.

I plan to spend the next few days paddling and exploring a bit between the lower Mississippi and the bayou country of Louisiana, en route to a race next Saturday on Bayou Teche.  I will try to post updates here as I can.

Race prep

Yesterday I did eight 12-stroke sprints during a 70-minute paddle in the harbor, and today I did four 12-stroke sprints during a 30-minute session.  I'm now in the posh Best Western Motel in Vicksburg, trying to get a good night's rest for tomorrow's race.  The weather forecast looks good--always a concern on the mighty Mississippi.

Monday photo feature

It's surf skis single file!  Mary Neil Quave took this picture of me, Jeb Berry, and Rick Carter midway through the Battle On The Bayou race at Ocean Springs a week ago Saturday.  The course was about nine and a half miles on Old Fort Bayou.

Lots of Big River time

The weather has chilled down for the weekend.  Fahrenheit temperatures were in the 50s when I paddled both yesterday and today.  Exactly the reason that I washed and put away some of my winter gear the other day, but not all of it.

Yesterday I paddled around the Loosahatchie Bar, the big island in the river upstream of the Hernando DeSoto Bridge.  Starting and finishing at Harbortown Marina in the harbor, I think the distance is around twelve miles or twenty kilometers.  And it's pretty tough: you have to fight some strong current as you paddle up the Tennessee side between the mouth of the Wolf River and the mouth of the Loosahatchie River, and then there's a long ferry across the Mississippi to enter the north end of the chute on the west side of the bar.  There was enough water yesterday--20.4 feet on the Memphis gauge--that shallow water wasn't a problem up at the bar's upper end (the big flood of 2011 deposited a lot of sand up there).  My elapsed time yesterday was 130 minutes, the last half-hour of which I was plenty worn out.

I woke up this morning feeling as back-to-normal as I've felt yet since I finished the antibiotics last week.  My sleep is more or less back to normal, and my digestion is slowly becoming regular again.  After a couple of tough days in the boat I was ready for a lighter session today.  I paddled for 60 minutes at not an easy pace, but a comfortable one.  I spent a lot of time out on the Mississippi since that's where I'll be racing down at Vicksburg next Saturday.

Mending continues

I managed a decent night of sleep last night and didn't wake up ill for a third straight morning.  There's still sort of a heavy feeling in my stomach.  It's just going to take a while for my body's "good" bacteria to re-establish themselves and make me feel right again.  In the meantime, I'm walking that razor's edge between doing some good training and giving myself the rest I need.

Today I paddled for 80 minutes in the harbor, and did what we would have called some "pace work" back in my high school running days.  I did eight pieces of three minutes on, three minutes off, targeting the pace I hope to maintain in my next race, a 22-miler on the Mississippi down at Vicksburg next Saturday.  My stroke felt good, my muscles felt ready to go, and my energy level held up long enough.

Blech

Having felt good in the boat Tuesday and taken the final antibiotic pill that evening, I was upbeat.  I eagerly anticipated my return to full strength, and I planned to spend the second half of this week getting in a couple of good substantial workouts before resting up for my next race a week from Saturday.

Unfortunately, wishing doesn't always make it so.  I've woken up early the last couple of mornings experiencing waves of nausea.  This morning in particular, I was in some pretty acute agony: in addition to the nausea there was this queer pain up in my upper chest and throat area, making me wonder if I had some kind of respiratory ailment.  I alternated between hanging out in the bathroom waiting to throw up and lying in bed trying desperately to fall back asleep. After a lot of dry-heaving I finally managed to vomit up some liquid matter.  By this time it was about 6:30 and I figured I might as well try to ingest something.  I had some water and a banana and a cup of coffee, and then I decided to go to bed.  Happily, I fell back asleep until about nine o'clock.

And now I sit here in the late morning, feeling much better than I did back around six o'clock but doubtful that I have much paddling or other exercise in me today.  I may just have to accept that it will take a while longer for my body to return to normal after taking those harsh drugs for ten days.

Reloading

Because those antibiotics were making me feel so crummy Friday, I took Saturday off from taking them.  I resumed Sunday morning, and by yesterday morning I was back to aching all over and feeling very sluggish.  I spent most of yesterday around the house doing some post-trip chores, putting gear away and stuff like that.  I also began the annual ritual of washing my heaviest winter paddling clothing and putting it away.  Here, my fleece-lines pogies and (in the background) a pair of furry tights dry out after getting washed in the laundry room sink downstairs:

Of course, April hasn't even begun yet, and it's entirely possible we'll be in for some more chilly weather.  But I feel fairly confident I can put away the stuff I wear in sub-freezing temperatures.  The coldest temperature I see in the current ten-day forecast for Memphis is 42 degrees Fahrenheit, and I still have some clothes not yet put away that'll do in that kind of weather.

Today I am still feeling low on energy.  After some lethargic stretching this morning I went down to the river and got in the boat, and felt surprisingly good there.  I did three eight-stroke sprints, and then paddled out on the Mississippi, which was placid and free of barge traffic.  The light was beautiful: it was largely cloudy, but the sun was peeking through in spots.  At one point it rained on me for a couple of minutes, and that was a lovely scene.  After this nice taut paddling session I gave my boat a long-overdue washing, cleaning off the Gulf salt as well as a winter's worth of grime.

I take my last antibiotic pill tonight at suppertime, so I'm hopeful better days are ahead.  My next scheduled race is a week from Saturday down at Vicksburg, Mississippi, and with any luck I'll enjoy some better health as I prepare.

Monday photo feature

Photographer Wayne Meverden has spent many years shooting events on the whitewater course at Wausau, Wisconsin.  He has hundreds and hundreds of old-fashioned slides, and recently he has been scanning them and posting them on Face Book.  There are great shots of many of the U.S.'s best: Cathy and Davey Hearn, Rebecca and Eric Giddens, Lecky Haller, Scott Shipley, Scott Parsons, Brett Heyl, and more.

And there's also a shot of yours truly.  I believe this was taken at the 1998 U.S. Team Trials.

The course at Wausau is in a channel of the Wisconsin River below a hydroelectric dam.  Whitewater features were added to the riverbed, and a spillway gate was installed in the dam at the head of the channel to allow for precise releases for events.

Trip report

Well, it's been an interesting few days.  By the time I was paddling up to the starting line in Ocean Springs yesterday morning it felt somewhat remarkable that I was there.

On Thursday morning I had paddled with Joe in the harbor.  I did eight 12-stroke sprints and I was feeling good, the boat moving well.  But at the same time, the antibiotics I'd been taking were really starting to wear on my body and disrupt my sleep.  At least, I hope it was the antibiotics disrupting my sleep: one problem I have never had is insomnia, and I hope I never do have that problem.  I believe the very best thing you can do for your health, along with a good diet, is get adequate sleep night in and night out.  It's been at least ten years since I have run a fever or been sick in any significant way, and I think good sleep has had a lot to do with that.

But when I got out of bed Friday morning, it seemed that that run of luck might be coming to an end at an untimely moment.  I had slept poorly for the second night in a row, and my body was aching a little as if I might be coming down with something.  I went down to the harbor and did a short paddle with a few more 12-stroke sprints, and this time everything felt more labored.

I loaded up my boat and went ahead with the six-hour drive to the Mississippi Gulf Coast.  It was not a pleasant drive.  By the time I rolled into Ocean Springs my head was throbbing and I was questioning the wisdom of even making the trip.  After checking in at the race headquarters I retired to the home of my friend Nick Kinderman, who had invited me to stay with him.  Nick is in fact the founder of the Battle On The Bayou race, and having turned the reins over to another director this past year, he was getting to enjoy the event himself for the first time.

I was hoping a good night's sleep would put me back on track, but instead I spent another night lying awake, and as dawn approached I had all but decided there was no way I would be fit to race.  But once I was up and moving around, I realized I didn't feel quite as horrible as I'd feared, and I decided to give the race a go.

The gun went off and we all charged off the starting line in the Back Bay of Biloxi next to the Gulf Hills Hotel, headed for the point where we would turn up into Old Fort Bayou.  In this first few hundred meters I rode the side wake of female champion-to-be Kata Dismukes, a comely Hungarian who now lives, with her American husband and their children, right here in the Memphis area.  We'll gladly claim her as our own for as long as she wants to stay here.

After the turn I moved up alongside Rick Carter of Eutawville, South Carolina, and Jeb Berry of Gulfport, Mississippi.  By the time we'd cleared the Washington Avenue bridge some 1600 meters into the race, the three of us had emerged as the lead pack, and we'd stay a pack almost until the end.  Perhaps foolishly, I led for most of that time; considering my less-than-perfect health it might have been wise to hang back a bit more.  Instead I was hoping to drop my two competitors, and they just wouldn't drop.

I've done this race six times now, and each time I've really begun to feel the fatigue with about three miles to go.  At that point I knew I probably wasn't going to drop anybody, and the race would come down to who had the most left at the end.

With about a mile to go Rick threw in a monster surge and took the lead, and I really had to work hard to stay on his stern wake.  I sat there thinking, "He can't keep on like this forever... can he?"  He finally let up a little, and I hoped that would be the last big move he had left in him.  But when we rounded the bend and faced the Interstate 10 bridge, about a half mile from the finish, Rick surged again and opened a several-boatlength lead on me.  At that point I knew he had me, for even if he slowed down significantly, and/or even if I'd had more energy left to respond, the gap plus Rick's boatlength would have been a formidable distance to make up in the couple of hundred meters I had left.

Meanwhile, Jeb was right on my stern, and I shifted my attention to holding him off.  He made a truly heroic attempt to slip by me at the finish, but I held onto second place by about one second.

The complete results are posted here.

Afterward, Rick seemed genuinely shocked that he had managed to beat me.  "What happened to you????" he kept saying.  I take that as quite a compliment, but I also think the man might be overestimating just how unbeatable I am; I've never been an Olympic hopeful, I've never qualified for a team of any kind... I'm just a middle-aged guy like him, doing the best he can at something he enjoys.

I should also note that while Rick is a very self-deprecating guy, always cracking jokes at his own expense, I think he's a better paddler and athlete than he gives himself credit for.  I watched him paddle during the race, and though his stroke might not be a polished thing of beauty like a classically-groomed Olympic hopeful would have, it's effective enough: he rotates his body, he uses his legs... he does quite a few of the little things that can make a boat go fast.  Rick told me after the race that he's gotten a lot of help from well-known paddlers and coaches like Morgan House and Chris Hipgrave, and in my mind that brings up an important point: he's actually willing to listen to knowledgeable people.  One thing I've noticed about many people who take up our sport later in life--particularly men who have had great success in their careers or other activities--is that they often don't want to take advice from anybody else, no matter how much they stand to benefit.  Rick's not like that.  So I'm happy for him to have claimed the "overall winner" distinction yesterday, and I hope he'll get a confidence boost from that.

I finally got a good night's sleep last night, and have felt significantly better all day today.  After thanking Nick for his hospitality, I went out for an hour-long recovery paddle in Biloxi Bay along the Ocean Springs beachfront.  Actually, the conditions weren't ideal for a recovery paddle: the wind was picking up, and I found myself dealing with an endless train of fair-sized waves.  Once I accepted that paddling lightly wasn't going to get me anywhere, I threw caution to the wind and at least had a little fun before the long trip home.

A nice week ahead of the season opener

Yesterday I enjoyed an absolutely lovely morning with lots of sunshine.  Before heading to the river I stood on my back deck and did some stretching, wearing nothing but a tee shirt and a pair of shorts.  My kind of weather.  Unfortunately it's supposed to get chilly again later this week, even down in Ocean Springs.  Ocean Springs is six hours south of here, as close to the Equator as I can get without detouring around the Gulf of Mexico, and I go down there each year expecting it to be a sub-tropical paradise; but it's been known to disappoint me.  The forecast for Saturday calls for a temperature of about 50 degrees Fahrenheit at race time, and that's actually just fine for racing, but hanging out after the race is less fun if you don't get to bask in warm sunshine.  Oh well... at least we seem to have broken free from the rigor-mortis grip of winter one more time.

The infection on my foot has shrunk down to a sore spot right where it all began, between the two littlest toes.  I was hoping it would be just about gone completely by now, but I'm on a ten-day course of antibiotics and I'm trying to remain patient.  The drugs seem to have upset my stomach a bit; the downside of antibiotics is that they mess up the body's good bacteria too, such as the ones involved in digestion.

In any case, it was a nice day to paddle, and I did so with Joe for 70 minutes in the harbor.  Today I plan to do my last couple of sets of the March strength routine before Saturday's race.  Tomorrow and Friday will be spent doing a few sprints and some easy paddling and making sure all my race-day gear is in order.

Monday photo feature

As Joe Royer and I paddled up the Mississippi toward the mouth of the Wolf River on Saturday, we encountered Joe's wife Carol Lee running in the Greenbelt Park, and she snapped a few photos of us with her Smart Phone, including this one.  That's Joe on the left and me on the right.  Carol Lee suffered a shoulder injury in a fall during a cross country race a couple of months ago, and must find her exercise out of the boat until she heals.

The river level in this photo is 31.0 feet on the Memphis gauge.

Slowly mending

By yesterday morning my foot was showing a bit of improvement.  I realized as I descended the ramp down to the marina that I was almost able to walk without a limp.  It was still quite swollen, but at least the swelling hadn't increased.  I have a follow-up visit with a doctor today.

I paddled for 70 minutes in a steady drizzle.  After being quite low for most of the winter, the Mississippi has risen up over 30 feet on the Memphis gauge (official "flood stage" is 34 feet).  At such levels it's fun to paddle along the Greenbelt Park north of the Hernando DeSoto Bridge, because you can actually see from your boat what's going on there.  Not much was going on yesterday because of the wet conditions, but it was nice nevertheless to look at the park's green grass and trees rather than a riprap-lined riverbank.

The drizzle had increased into a sure-enough downpour by the time I returned to the dock.  It felt good to go back home and listen to the rain on my roof.

I am not proud. Bring on the pity party

By yesterday morning my right foot seemed to be getting worse, if such a thing was possible.  Never very good at allowing my life to come to a screeching halt, I went downstairs and did a few light shop chores, and when I came back up and took my shoes and socks off, I found that the swelling had spread into the entire foot:

My doctor's appointment wasn't until 12:30, and while waiting for that I did the pushup and situp exercises from the March strength routine; all the other exercises are done standing up, and my foot was in too much pain.

Finally the blessed half-past-noon moment arrived, and I limped into the dermatologist's office fully expecting to be prescribed an antibiotic and sent on my merry way.  Instead, the nurse practitioner looked at it and said, "That looks bad.  We're not equipped to treat that here.  You'd better go to the emergency room."

Sigh... I could have done that on Thursday.

So on I went to the ER at Methodist-LeBonheur Hospital, and that little errand would eat up the rest of my day.  In short, I sat in the waiting room until after five o'clock, my foot throbbing as badly as ever.  Finally they moved me into a back room with a bed to lie on, and after another round of waiting, signing forms, waiting, talking to another nurse practitioner, waiting, eating a hamburger my wonderful mother brought me, waiting, watching an NCAA Division I basketball tournament first-round game, and waiting, the nurse hooked me up to an antibiotic IV drip.  At last, something was happening that would (I hope) make this infection go away.

The nurse practitioner wondered aloud whether she should admit me to the hospital for the entire weekend, but, thank the holy heavens above, she decided not to do that after conferring with a doctor.   She prescribed two antibiotics and a painkiller and let me go.  After one more session of waiting at the drug store, I was home-sweet-home at last.

For you pill-popping enthusiasts who might be wondering, the painkiller I got is hydrocodon-acetaminophen (brand name Lortab), a drug I've been prescribed on several occasions now.  Not only does it not seem to give me any sort of high, but also it does little to relieve my pain in my experience.  Nevertheless, my foot did feel slightly better when I got up this morning; I expect there's a psychological element at work, as I'm hopeful that the antibiotics (sulfamethoxazole and clindamycin HCl) are now at work killing the bacteria that have invaded my foot.

Though getting myself down to the dock is a chore, I discovered on Thursday that I can still paddle in reasonable comfort, so I went on down for my usual Saturday session.  Joe got there about the same time, so we paddled up to the mouth of the Wolf River together, and then another mile or so up the Wolf to the Second Street bridge.  I picked the pace up a bit from the mouth of the Wolf to the monorail bridge back in the harbor.

A good, strong paddling session was just what I needed on a day when I'm feeling a bit like an invalid on dry land.

Ow. It hurts.

On Tuesday Joe and I paddled very easy.  I was still quite achy and sore from the time trial on Sunday and also from some logging work I did on Monday.  On Monday and yesterday I did the March strength routine.

By today my muscles were feeling recovered, but now I have a new problem: some kind of infection on my right foot.  It started a few days ago as what I though was just typical athlete's foot or toe-rot or something like that, right in between the two littlest toes.  But last night around suppertime the area starting hurting much worse, and when I took my shoe and sock off to look at it I saw that the pinkie toe was very swollen.

After sleeping in pain last night, I called my dermatologist's office this morning to see if they could work me in, but tomorrow around lunchtime is the earliest appointment they could give me.  So I'm grinning and bearing it until then.

I went down to the river and paddled for 60 minutes, doing three 8-stroke sprints and some ultra-short race pace training.  The foot didn't feel too bad in the boat: I'd been worried because this season I've been following some advice Mike Herbert gave me last summer and relying more on the footboard strap for leverage in boat-propulsion, but it turned out the strap doesn't contact the part of my foot where the infection is.  So at least I got a satisfying workout in today, no matter how much of a bummer today might otherwise be.

Monday photo feature

My first race is still almost two weeks away, but other racers in this region have at least one race under their belts.  The annual Jungle Boater race took place on the eighth of this month on the Mulberry River in Arkansas.  Bill Cains of Altus, Arkansas, was the victor of the solo canoe class, clocking one hour, 3 minutes, 30 seconds over a distance of about 7 miles on Class II-III whitewater.  Photo courtesy of Turner Bend Outfitters.

Time trial

I'm feeling somewhat better today, though there's still a bit of discomfort on my right side, along with some stiffness in my upper spine.

In what might be turning into an annual thing, I timed myself over a lap of the harbor today.  (You can read my summary of last year's effort here.)

Conditions this morning were pretty good: mostly-sunny skies (finally!), about 60 degrees Fahrenheit, a moderate breeze blowing from the north-northeast, and a water level of 26.3 feet on the Memphis gauge.

Wolf River Harbor (so named because it was the bed of the Wolf River before a slackwater harbor at downtown Memphis was created by diverting the Wolf directly to the Mississippi up above) is about three miles long.  The marina where I keep my boat is approximately halfway between the north end and the south end.  I warmed up by paddling up to the north end, where I would start and finish.  I did four 8-stroke sprints before assuming my position in the starting gate between a pair of submerged trees.

I went out hard for about 200 meters before settling into a pace I hoped I could sustain; it was pretty intense despite the lower stroke rate.  I passed the marina, breaking its southern plane at about the 13:30 mark.  I was starting to feel some fatigue by the time I passed under the monorail bridge, several hundred meters before the turnaround point.

I made the turn around an imaginary buoy that sits on the line you get by extending the center-line of Beale Street down into the harbor (I had earlier picked out a landmark on the Beale Street Landing dock so I would know exactly where to make the turn).  My split there was about 25:30.  Heading back north I faced a headwind, but it wasn't too bad; I was actually grateful to have a breeze to dry the sweat from my face.

By the time I was back on the north side of the marina I could really feel myself starting to struggle with the pace.  I lowered my stroke intensity a bit and tried to take the best stroke I could, using all the muscle groups like I've been practicing.  With about a hundred meters to go I picked it up and crossed the finish line 52 minutes, 30 seconds after I'd started.

The time was two minutes slower than last year's, and I'm a little disappointed at that, but there's no reason to dwell on it.  There are a lot of variables at play whenever you time yourself on a body of water of any size.  And even if my speed is in fact off a bit right now, it's not necessarily the harbinger of poor race performances, because a time trial, in which you just go as hard as you can in pursuit of your best possible time, is different from a race against competition, where there's bound to be some wake-riding and some tactical devices afoot.

The good thing about doing something like this as the race season approaches is it gives me a chance to rehearse my race-day routine: I try to eat, stretch, warm up, and prepare my equipment the way I would the morning of a race.  If I've forgotten any details in the months since my last race, I catch it now instead of at my first race.

Somebody please come fix me

It hasn't been a big week for blog posts, I know, but if it's any consolation, I haven't done anything particularly new or exciting this week.  I did the March strength routine on Monday and Wednesday and Friday and paddled my boat on Sunday and Tuesday and Thursday and today, doing a few sprints and a few drills and lots of steady paddling.

The weather has been warmer at last--Fahrenheit temperatures in the 60s most days.  It's also been cloudy and rainy.  As much as I yearn for a beautiful warm sunny day, I do think the river is lovely on days like we've had this week.  This morning was particularly beautiful, the river shrouded in a thick fog.

Unfortunately I'm not feeling tip-top today.  I woke up this morning feeling as if I'd slept in an awkward position: the whole right side of my back, though not really in pain, felt all out of whack.  Before I left the house this morning I did several stretches and yoga positions I hoped might pop things back into alignment, but to no avail.  In the boat I went fairly easy, mixing in some backpaddling to see if that would help.  Though I felt some better afterward, I've continued to feel maladjusted the rest of the day.  This happens from time to time and typically I just have to let it run its course.

Monday photo feature

Back in May of 2011, the Beale Street Music Festival just barely managed to get itself wrapped up before the floodwaters arrived.  Had that green barrier not been in my way, I think I would have loaded up my boat with every contraband item on the list and paddled right by that sign.

Thaw

The weekend has brought milder temperatures and the snow and ice is slowly melting away.  Yesterday was the sort of day that's been rare this winter, with warmer temperatures and sunny skies both.

Yesterday I stayed in the harbor and paddled for 60 minutes, doing three 8-stroke sprints and 40 minutes of ultra-short race pace training.  Today I paddled longer--120 minutes--and paddled from the marina up to the mouth of the Wolf, and then another couple of miles up the Wolf to the Danny Thomas Boulevard bridge, before coming back down.  My fuel tank was definitely running low in the last half-hour or so.

Most of the coming week will feature Fahrenheit highs in the 50s, but some rain along with it.  Like I said, warmer and sunny days have been hard to come by.

Snowed in. Let me tell you about my Smart Bell.

Well, I've been making it down to the river on all kinds of gruesome days, but today I believe the weather has me beat.  The day-long rain began to turn to sleet and freezing rain around six o'clock last night, and that turned over to snow in the early hours of this morning.  The result is a thick (for Memphis) blanket of ice and snow on all the city streets, and from the radio traffic report this morning it sounds like there's nothing but trouble for the small number of people out there trying to navigate them.  I do believe I will stay in.

My strength routine for this month is taking shape.  At my last teaching job in the 1990s I became good friends with the school's wrestling coach, and he introduced me to a thing called a Smart Bell, invented by a friend of his, U.S. National Team wrestler Paul Widerman.  A Smart Bell is a steel object that sort of looks like a steering wheel; it is precisely balanced to facilitate numerous strength-in-motion exercises.  My Smart Bell, more than 15 years old, weighs 15 pounds; it appears that modern-day Smart Bells are lighter.  That suits my general attitude toward weight training, that the amount of weight is less important than precise technique.

I've got a set of Smart Bell exercises that my wrestling-coach friend showed me years ago.  I've looked all over You Tube for video footage of these exercises, but haven't had much luck; perhaps one day I'll post videos of myself doing them.  In the meantime, I'll point you to this video in which a guy does some of my exercises in one approximate form or another.  (Actually, he does some other exercises I'd never seen before that I should consider incorporating into my routine.)

My routine goes like this:

1.  Standing torso-twists (similar to what the guy is doing at 1:37 of the video)

2.  Orbital circle (not on the video)

3.  The Russian (what the guy is doing at 0:28)

4.  Pushups, placing the Smart Bell on the floor and gripping it

5.  Situps, holding the Smart Bell behind my head

6.  Squats (what the guy is doing at 1:10)

7.  Circle (what the guy is doing at 0:44)

8.  Lunges (the guy does lunges at 1:23, but I do them with the Smart Bell behind my head, and I actually walk across the room)


So there it is, my March strength routine.  I hope readers will find this information useful.  I'll let you know when the spring thaw allows me out of the house.

Sometimes winter is nice

I paddled with Joe today for the first time in several weeks, and we enjoyed an utterly beautiful morning out in the harbor.  It was the warmest it's been in what seems like forever--Fahrenheit temperature in the mid 50s--and a lovely fog hung over the water.  I'm still dreaming of sunshine and 80 degrees, but I'd be foolish not to appreciate the beauty that the current season offers.

I mentioned on Saturday that the weather is moving into a warmer trend, except for "a brief cold snap at the end of this week."  It's looking like a doozy, with lots of frozen precipitation.  The nastiness starts tomorrow, but at least it is indeed expected to brief, as opposed to the solid two weeks of frigidity we just had.

Yesterday I started up a strength routine for the month of March.  It's a Smart Bell workout, and I'll elaborate soon.

Monday photo feature

The top five finishers in the 2001 Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race were (from left) Mike Herbert of Rogers, Arkansas, first place; Greg Barton of Seattle, Washington, second place; yours truly, third place; Peter Braul of Kincardine, Ontario, fourth place; and Scott Cummins of Indianapolis, Indiana, fifth place.  Photo by Emerson Wickwire.

Looking for my speed

There was no ice in the harbor yesterday morning even though the temperature had been near or below freezing for the previous 36 hours or so.  I can't say I understand the process entirely, as the air temperature alone does not determine whether the harbor will be iced over.  I expect atmospheric pressure plays a role, and windy conditions probably retard the formation of ice.

All I know is that I was able to paddle unimpeded yesterday.  I did three 8-stroke sprints and then paddled steady with several surges of 45 seconds or so.

Today it is warmer but rainy.  As I ate breakfast this morning it was really coming down, but by the time I got down to the river it has abated to a fine drizzle.  I will say that rainy days are some of the most beautiful out on the Mississippi.  Today a lovely mist hung over the tranquil river.

In the first half of today's 80-minute session I warmed up, did three 8-stroke sprints, and then did a couple of little time trials on courses I've done many times before.  I sprinted from one set of bridge pilings to the other beneath the A.W. Willis Bridge in about 30 seconds (my PR is about 28 seconds). And I paddled from the monorail bridge to the Hernando DeSoto Bridge in about 2 minutes, 14 seconds (my PR is about 1:59).  I paddled hard and hoped to be faster today, but the results I got were the results I got.

I spent the rest of the session paddling steady, trying to maintain good stroke form all the way through even though I was tired from the time trials.

In the coming week I'll be working up a new strength routine.  And milder weather seems to be on the way.  Except for a brief cold snap at the end of this week, the forecast is showing highs above 40 degrees Fahrenheit.  40 feels remarkably warm after the miserable couple of weeks we just had.

Pressing on, stoically

Well, February is almost over, and I believe I will be as glad to bid it goodbye as I was the previous month.  Sunshine and warmth have been mightily scarce these last couple of weeks.

On Tuesday the forecast called for mostly-sunny skies and a high of almost 40 degrees Fahrenheit, but it wasn't there yet when I arrived at the riverfront that morning.  I paddled under cloudy skies with a temperature in the high 20s.  I did three 8-stroke sprints and 40 minutes of ultra-short race pace training.

Yesterday it was cloudy again but a bit warmer (mid 30s).  I was met with a surprise when I got to the riverfront: the entire harbor was covered with a sheet of ice.  The ice seemed thin enough near the dock that I thought I could paddle out to the open water of the river, but once I was in the boat I realized that would not be a worthwhile endeavor.  Even though my boat broke through the ice reasonably well, my paddle did not, and propelling the boat was laborious and potentially dangerous--I could easily flip if the ice gave way unexpectedly under my blade.

So I improvised.  I managed to clear out a piece of water some fifty meters long, and I alternately paddled and backpaddled the length of it.  I did a few sprints and a few stroke drills, basically devoting the session to skill and technique practice.

In the end, I spent 50 minutes in the boat, perhaps half of which consisted of paddling of any real quality.  But I think I coped with difficult circumstances pretty well.

I'm still doing my February strength routine on the days I don't paddle.  I plan to do it for the last time today.  Tomorrow I hope paddle for the last time this month, although with today's high expected to be in the low 30s, and an overnight low in the low 20s, I won't be surprised to find the harbor iced over again.  Go away, February, and take winter with you.

Monday photo feature

I just can't help but smile anytime I'm on a lovely river, even if it's a chilly day like this one on Alabama's Locust Fork of the Black Warrior River in 1997.  Photo by Sonny Salomon.

Encouraging feedback

Today I paddled for 80 minutes in the harbor.  After warming up and doing my three 8-stroke sprints, I did eight 30-second sprints at three-minute intervals.  I last did this workout back on the 16th of January, feeling sloppy in my technique throughout, and that's what motivated me to start doing several 8-stroke sprints each time in the boat, to get a bit of stroke practice at high intensity on a regular basis.  I'm happy to say that today's workout went much better: I felt solidly in control of my body while paddling hard.

Less cold but soaking wet

As promised, some warmer weather moved in today: it was about 57 degrees Fahrenheit when I got up this morning.  Unfortunately, that was the high for the day; by the time I was in my boat several hours later it had dropped into the 40s.  And another frigid week appears to be in store: not as bad as this past week, but still pretty cold to be out engaging in a water sport.

The primary weather story for today was rain.  I paddled for 60 minutes in a steady downpour, and the rain continued for most of the afternoon.

But by golly, I got in every paddling session I had planned to this week.

Wicked cold (cont'd)

Today has been perhaps the most frigid day in an utterly frigid week here in the Mid South.  When I arrived at the riverfront this morning the temperature was 21 degrees Fahrenheit, on its way to a forecast high of about 25.  I'm not liking it a bit, but I'm trying my best to face it with a grin.  I can't change the weather and I might as well just immerse myself.

Happily, most of the ice had melted off the ramp down to the marina, so that was one life-threatening ordeal fewer than I faced on Tuesday.  My rudder was predictably frozen, so I had to paddle circles around the marina until the just-above-freezing water of the harbor thawed it out.  Finally, then, I could settle down to business.

After warming up and doing my three 8-stroke sprints, I did a loosely-structured workout I've done for years.  After reaching the north end of the harbor, I spent the paddle back south picking out stretches between fixed objects, like barge moorings and bridge pilings, and paddling those stretches at sub-maximum intensity.  The longest piece I did was maybe 30 seconds.

As for the rest of this week, the meteorologists are predicting more frozen precipitation tomorrow, followed by a Fahrenheit temperature above 60--60!--on Saturday.  So goes an old saying here in our fine city: if you don't like the weather, just wait a while.

Ice-capades

Right now the greater Memphis area is in the grip of its big winter storm of 2015.  But I'm happy to say that in this part of the country, most winter storms aren't all that bad.  A few hours of steady sleet on Monday resulted in a sheet of ice perhaps a half-inch thick outside, and by the time I was heading for the river yesterday morning, the streets were reasonably passable as long as one took it slow.

Down on the riverfront, paddling my boat was the easiest thing I did.  The most treacherous task I faced was getting down the ramp to the dock beforehand, and back up it after:

Once I was on the dock, it took me a while to untie the ropes securing my boat to its rack, for they were encased in ice.  Getting the boat out of its cover was an ordeal as well, for the same reason.  The cover remained frozen stiff even after I got the zipper and the straps undone:

It was all quite a hassle, but what mattered was what you can see in the right-hand portion of the shot: the harbor was in a liquid state.  In fact, aside from the cold (mid 20s Fahrenheit), it was an ideal day for paddling.  The wind was light and the sun was out most of the time.

After warming up, I did my three 8-stroke sprints and then did 40 minutes of ultra-short race pace training.  After it was over I put my boat back on the rack without fooling with the frozen cover; the boat will just have to take a day or two in the sun.  I made my way, with much difficulty, back up the icy ramp, and drove the thawing streets back home.

Monday photo feature

In recognition of both the sleet storm in Memphis this morning and the record-setting snow up in New England, here's a picture of me out on the Mississippi River on a snowy day in 2002.  Photo by Joe Royer.

It's still winter

I knew it would be a tough one today: the temperature--24 degrees Fahrenheit when I arrived at the marina this morning--was bad enough on its own, but there was a fierce east-northeast wind blowing on top of that.  I paddled for 80 minutes, and didn't do anything special; I just went a steady pace with a few surges thrown in.

It had warmed up to 27 degrees by the time I was heading back home, and there was a crust of ice on my pogies and life jacket.  I always get a bit of satisfaction from that, knowing I'd gone through with a training session on a day when it was very tempting to blow it off.

Finishing off the week

This week I paddled my boat on Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, and did the February strength routine on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  There's a pleasing symmetry to that.

Today I did three 8-stroke sprints and then paddled steady, with several long surges thrown in.

It got up to about 60 degrees Fahrenheit this afternoon, but that has begun to change: the overnight low tonight is supposed to be down around 20 degrees, and we're in for god-awful cold weather for most of the coming week.  I'm hoping that this will be the last big blast of cold air for this winter.

Putting theory into practice

It was a blustery day for paddling today: about 39 degrees Fahrenheit, the wind whistling out of the north.

After warming up, I did another three of my 8-stroke sprints.  A good explanation of what I'm trying to do here comes from Scott Shipley in his book Every Crushing Stroke: The Book of Performance Kayaking.

Combinations of forces: Another name for this is "coordination."  The best paddlers coordinate their entire body into making each stroke.  Each muscle fires in coordination with all the rest such that a steady crushing force is applied in a controlled yet explosive manner.

This passage is what's on my mind during the 8-stroke sprints, and most of the rest of my sessions, too.  Once I plant my blade for the catch, giving it a split second to get seated in the water, I try to coordinate all the muscle groups I use for a stroke--the legs, the hips, the abdominals, the lats, the arms--in one nice fluid-but-powerful motion.  Though it might not look it to the casual observer, a lot of stuff has to happen just right to produce the best stroke I'm capable of.  And that's the point of all this practice.

For the rest of my 60-minute session I did another round of ultra-short race pace training.  Right now forty minutes seems to be a good duration for this work.  If I go longer, my form and concentration seem to start falling apart.

Monday photo feature

In the summer of 2007 I went up to Warren, Pennsylvania, to race in the USCA Nationals on the Allegheny River.  Here I round a buoy in the K1 Unlimited class.  Photo by WillArts Photography.

Steadfast

This weekend has featured some warmer weather, but strong winds have made it not the best for paddling.  When I paddled this morning it was about 60 degrees Fahrenheit, but it was a chilly 60 degrees.  I guess I've been complaining about the weather here a lot this winter, and perhaps I just can't be made happy, but at least I am getting out and paddling.

I started my 90-minute session by warming up and doing four 12-stroke sprints.  I started from rest so that I could get in some start practice as well.

Then I did some more of my ultra-short race pace training for about 40 minutes.

I ran into Joe near the north end of the harbor, and paddled with him for the remainder of the time.  We picked up the pace for about the last 1000 meters.

The February strength routine

Once again, I'm doing a few exercises that are featured in the Michele Ramazza video.  Here's the routine:

1.  Leg kicks (shown at 3:37 in the video)

2.  Pullups on gymnast's rings

3.  Dead lifts (2:51 in the video)

4.  Lateral abdominal exercises (3:54 in the video)

5.  Pushups

6.  Squats (2:40 in the video)


I'm doing two styles of pushups this month: the first time through the circuit, I do sort of an explosive-plyometric style where I start upright on my knees, fall forward into pushup position, and then push myself back up into the standing-on-my-knees position.  On the second trip through the circuit I do more normal pushups, except that I'm gripping dumbbells like Michele Ramazza is doing at 5:00 in the video.

Jumping into February with both feet

On Tuesday I paddled with Joe for 80 minutes.  Most of the time we maintained a moderate pace, but picked it up nicely in the last ten minutes or so.

Yesterday I did a light run-through of my February strength routine, trying out several new exercises and putting together a half-dozen or so that will work muscle groups throughout the body.  I'll try to get the routine finalized and post it here tomorrow.

It dropped below freezing last night, but with bright sunshine this morning I thought it would be warming up nicely by the time I headed to the river around 10:00 AM.  It wasn't.  My car's in-dash temperature display read 31 degrees Fahrenheit when I arrived at the marina, and a stiff, cold north wind was blowing.  But no matter--on any given day, I can just about guarantee that I've paddled on a worse day.

My 60-minute session went like this:

0:00-0:10  Warm up

0:10-0:15 Three 8-stroke sprints

0:15-0:55 Ultra-short race pace training like I did on Sunday, ten strokes on and twenty strokes off.  This time I think I did a better job of not doing the pieces too hard.  The "race pace" I'm shooting for is about what I would do in the June 20 Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race, which at 5000 meters is the shortest, fastest race I'm likely to do this year.  Once again, there's a good explanation of USRP training here.

0:55-1:00 Cool down

Monday photo feature

My very first boat: a Dancer kayak, a gift on my 19th birthday in August of 1986.  My black loafers sit nearby, revealing to the whole world that I was sort of a preppy teenager.  Photo by Sally Thomas.

Be gone, hated winter month

It was the usual 31 days, but January seemed extra long this year.  I'm glad it's over, and I hope it doesn't return for at least another eleven months.

My enthusiasm for training felt low all month--partly because of the weather, no doubt, and partly because I was busy with all kinds of other silly things.  But I did everything I had planned to do: I was in the boat three times a week and I did my January strength routine three times a week.  I feel some satisfaction from having kept moving like that and I hope it will pay off later when there are races to do and my head and heart are into it more.

I'm not a big fan of February either, but at least this one started off with a bang.  I paddled for 80 minutes this morning in steady rain and gusting winds.  After warming up and doing three of my 8-stroke sprints, I began my first experiment in "ultra-short race pace training," described by Ron Lugbill here.  Since I hate trying to read my watch while paddling, I did it in the form of 10 strokes on, 20 strokes off.  When it was over, I'd done many intervals over a 45-minute period.  I'd hoped to do it for 50 minutes, but I could feel my form breaking down, so I stopped after 45.

It was plenty taxing--I probably went harder than I should have on some of the pieces, and I had to keep reminding myself to keep them at race pace--but it actually wasn't radically different from how I've always trained.  Even during a long distance session, I typically throw in some surges.  The truth is, I like to go fast and push the pace.  USRP training adds a little more structure to the exercise, so I'll be doing more of it this season.

Schedule updates

I have made a few revisions to the race schedule I posted back on December 28.  I've added two races in the month of September: one on Lake Fontana near Bryson City, North Carolina, and one on Barnett Reservoir near Jackson, Mississippi.

Back when I first posted the schedule there had not yet been a date announced for the Perche Creek Gutbuster race up at Columbia, Missouri.  The event is now set for March 28, the same date as the Battle on the Bayou race at Ocean Springs, Mississippi.  I've already registered for Ocean Springs, so I guess I've made my choice, but by all means consider going to Columbia that weekend if you're looking for an event and it suits you better.

Smoothing out wrinkles

I paddled with Joe for 90 minutes in the harbor today.  I arrived early and got in the boat and did my three 8-stroke sprints while Joe was still getting ready.  Then we paddled steady at a moderate pace, picking it up a little for the last ten minutes or so.

As I've said before, making even a small change to your stroke can make paddling quite uncomfortable for a while.  But by now I'm feeling good about my increased use of the legs and lower torso, at least at a normal cruising intensity.

Monday photo feature

What's not to smile about during a lovely day on the Chattooga River?  Clay Barbee snapped this picture of me in 1994.

Our sorta-cold winter drags on

It's been warmer this weekend, with a beautiful sunny day yesterday, but today's weather was unsettled.  As I headed downtown this morning I could see a big rain cell approaching from across the river, and I spent the first half-hour of today's 80-minute session paddling in a cold rain driven by a stiff south wind.  After turning around at the south end of the harbor, I found Carol Lee and Joe Royer coming along in their tandem boat, and I enjoyed their company the rest of the time.

I did another three 8-stroke sprints.  Any time I took a "bad" stroke--one with too much arm and shoulder action and not enough lower-torso rotation--I could feel the soreness in my upper back, reminding me why I'm doing this work.

One day closer to spring

I tried to enjoy the milder weather as much as I could.  Today winter seems to be settling back in--not a big surprise with eight days still to go in the month of January.  It was sleeting a little as I left the house to go to the river this morning, but by the time I was finished paddling it had warmed up to around 40 degrees Fahrenheit with no precipitation.

In my 60-minute session I did the same sort of thing I've been doing lately: I did several 8-stroke sprints to practice my higher-intensity technique, and then did a pretty good tempo for the rest of the hour.

Paddling was the one good thing that happened this morning

I had a rather crazy morning with several errands to run, and when a minor household emergency cropped up I was afraid I wouldn't make it to the river at all.  But I got myself down there and managed a 50-minute session.  I'll repeat the point Brent Reitz makes in his video "The Brent Reitz Forward Stroke Clinic": when you manage to get your paddling in, then you've done at least one good thing, no matter how crummy the rest of the day might be.

This stretch of milder weather is supposed to continue for another day or two.  It feels so nice to wear lighter winter gear and paddle without pogies.

I did another three 8-stroke sprints, trying to improve my stroke form at higher intensity.  The rest of the time I paddled at a fairly strong tempo, and at the end I did some backpaddling to work the opposing muscles a little.

Coping with winter and unfamiliar stroke technique

Here in the Mid South we've just emerged from a long, unpleasant cold snap.  I got out and paddled in it, but did not enjoy it.  I'm not asking for sympathy and I'm perfectly aware that there are many places on this Earth that have longer, colder winters than this place does.  But I'm tired of what we do have, and with January just barely half over I'm afraid there's plenty of time for a couple more bad cold spells.

So I'd better enjoy this little stretch of not-so-bad weather.  On Friday I paddled with a temperature above 50 degrees Fahrenheit for the first time that I could remember.  I did a set of eight 30-second sprints at three-minute intervals, and I always forget that this is a fairly tough workout.  As I've mentioned, I'm trying to paddle more with my legs and lower torso this season, and I found this difficult at a higher speed.  I had trouble making all these parts of my body move smoothly and in sync through all the phases of a stroke--the catch, the pull-through, the recovery, and so on.  It's going to take practice, and I think I need to incorporate a bit of higher-speed paddling into every session, even if for just a couple of minutes.

In keeping with that idea, today I warmed up for ten minutes and then did three eight-stroke sprints, trying to achieve maximum technical quality in each stroke.  For the most part the strokes felt good, and after this short and sweet little exercise I had a good 80-minute aerobic session with some long surges thrown in.  I hope a couple of months of this sort of thing will get me feeling better about my form at higher intensity.

The January strength routine

To follow up on Sunday's post, I went through the January strength routine again today and I think it's starting to gel.  Here's how it goes:

Super crunches (shown at 3:10 of the Michele Ramazza video)
Dips
Air squats (shown at 2:16 of the Michele Ramazza video)
Casey Eichfeld's stability ball drill
Butterfly crunches (shown at 3:24 of the Michele Ramazza video)
Front and lat raises

I do two sets of this routine.  At the moment I barely have the coordination to pull off Casey Eichfeld's drill.  Hopefully that'll improve as those core muscles get a bit stronger.  Those butterfly crunches are tougher than they look on the video, too.

I'll add that before I get going on these exercises, I do a thorough stretch routine and do several of the upper-back-rehab exercises my massage therapist showed me.  So in all I spend the better part of an hour doing what feels like good-quality stuff.

Monday photo feature

A photographer for the Memphis Commercial Appeal snapped this photo of Greg Barton and Joe Royer in Wolf River Harbor the day before the 2006 Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race.  This event takes place each Father's Day weekend.

Thoughts on getting strong

Today was the latest in a long string of dreary cold days, and I had to claw through my Seasonal Affective Disorder to get myself out the door and down to the river.  The bright side is that I paddled during the nicest part of the day.  This afternoon the temperature is dropping and the wind has picked up to howling proportions.

I think for most of the coming season my paddling sessions will generally be around 60 minutes, but I'm thinking on Sundays I'll go a bit longer than that.  Today I paddled for 70 minutes, and threw in some surges of 30-60 seconds, so that it was what runners call a "fartlek" session.

Yesterday I started gathering exercises for my January strength routine.  I'm pretty sure I've talked about this before, but I'll share again the way I go about doing strength work.  Back in the mid 1990s, before I'd met Greg Barton in person, I got my hands on The Barton Mold, William T. Endicott's case study of the world and Olympic flatwater sprint champion, and was captivated by Greg's approach to strength training.  Basically, Greg would put together a routine with an exercise for each general muscle group (abdominals, upper back and lats, biceps and triceps, and so on) and stick to that routine for about four weeks or a month; then he would make up a new routine with a slightly different exercise for each muscle group.

Greg's reasoning went as follows: when you start up a new exercise routine, your body thinks, "Whoa!  I've got a new job here!  I'd better start fortifying the relevant muscles right away!"  As a result, you see some notable gains in strength in the first couple of weeks.  But after a while the body starts to "coast along," as it were, and you hit a plateau in your improvement.  By changing up the routine and substituting the old exercises with new ones that work the same muscles from a different angle or in a different hierarchy, Greg figured you could "trick" the body into thinking it was doing something entirely new and make it adapt accordingly.  You can read this entire section of The Barton Mold here--look in Chapter 5, "How Barton trains."

And that's more or less how I've been working out ever since.  In the last couple of years I've also become more mindful of issues brought up by Ron Lugbill in his slalom racing blog: doing some movements fast so the body will be used to moving fast when you put it in the boat; and focusing on the different phases of a lift, such as the downward (negative) phase rather than always the upward (positive) phase.

For the coming month,  I want to keep working on my legs and core without neglecting my arms.  An exercise I've planned to do this month for a while is one that I saw in a video posted on Face Book by Casey Eichfeld, who was a wee lad when I was racing slalom fifteen years ago but is now a perennial member of the slalom national team.  I can't figure out how to link to this video, so I'll just tell you it's a core exercise in which you maintain the pushup "up" position with your hands on one stability ball and your feet on another.  I have found it very difficult, so far managing to stay up for only a few seconds, and I hope I can get the hang of it as the month goes along.

Several other exercises come from this video, made by a guy named Michele Ramazza who's apparently into extreme whitewater racing (at least, I think that's what he means by "Freeride Kayaking").

And then there's an exercise I've known for some 20 years: front and lat raises.  You stand with a pair of dumbbells, raising your straight arms in front of you, then to your right and left, "crucifixion" style.

I'm still experimenting and will post my January strength routine in the next couple of days.