Kayakingkiwi: Adventures in a Boat

Just when my training schedule should be stepping up, I've had almost 2 weeks of virtual inactivity on the training front. I've managed a couple of runs, a couple of gym sessions and a swim, but that's nowhere near what I should be doing at the moment. I'm trying not to be disheartened and I know that compared to this stage in the training last year I'm miles ahead ... literally miles ahead in fact. 

So where has it gone wrong? Work, family and life in general seems to have intervened in a particularly frustrating way. Two weeks ago, we competed in a hard and fast 14 mile race on the Thames and despite my balance problems for about a mile (literal balance problem - hangover from encephalitis many years ago, occasionally my balance goes for no apparent reason) we were delighted with the improvement we showed. The following week I managed to run/gym, but then had to take daughter #1 back to Cambridge for another uni interview. Then I was unwell and that's when life seemed to take a further turn towards the frenetic. We had to cope with one daughter deal with the stress of waiting for a uni offer: finally discovered after several interviews, pooling, recalls, more interviews, that it was a no from Cambridge, but with a firm offer and a sports scholarship from Durham, it wasn't the end of the world. 

Then daughter #2 who has struggled to train recently was hit with debilitating headaches, cue several doctors' visits, blood tests, high emotion. While daughter #3 has had an offer of a place at a new (much better) school away from a nasty bully, but was hugely emotional at the prospect of a move. Add to that mix needing THREE new tyres in the past 5 days for THREE cars (2 flats and 1 bald) and the news that my father has been rushed to hospital in NZ with chronic heart failure (among other problems). Then comes parents' evenings and a series of 12 hour working days. I've continued to get up at 5.20am, but have been unable to manage more than just a walk round the block with the dogs. Total bloody exhaustion is lurking nearby!

So all in all I'm feeling a bit of a failure and as though my life has become completely off kilter - but we've put tomorrow aside for a paddle and a trial at something completely different. We're going to try out dragon-boat racing before we do a shortish training paddle.

And Monday is the start of a new week - I've brought my boat back home to see if that makes it easier to get out on the river first thing in the mornings. All I know is that if I don't get things back on track, any hope we had of going under 24 hours for the DW race will be out the window. I have to get some balance back in my life - if only to stop the stress I feel building when I don't get out for a long training session at least once a week.

Here's to a more balanced few weeks...

At a Christmas meal this week, a colleague was recounting a tale of how she had gone to watch a friend compete in Challenge Henley and had seen an Ironman contestant projectile vomit in front of her, as he started out on the run. 

She was mystified. 'Why would anyone put themselves through that? Surely that's your body's way of telling you just to stop and go home.'  I tried to explain it, but struggled to find words to convince her that vomit is just part and parcel of hard training and racing. Personally, I have frequently thrown up at the end of 10k races, even when I was languishing towards the back of the field. It is about being prepared to push yourself that bit harder and that bit faster, no matter what ability level you are. I frequently read tweets from World class athletes in a variety of sports who talk of pushing themselves to the point of vomit during their training and even we middle-age plodders are capable of revisiting an earlier meal. Certainly I spent the last 7 hours of this year's DW race dry-wretching behind my K2 partner. Since I hadn't been able to take food or fluid on during that time, she knew there was nothing more than grotesque sounds mixed with whimpering behind her, so there was no need to worry. 

But it doesn't answer the question of why some people can or want to push themselves to the point at which their body is shrieking for them to stop, while others give up at the first twinge. I see the different attitudes very clearly when I'm coaching or teaching. Some kids just won't give up, while others stop at every opportunity. We do a Cooper Run at school - the aim is for 12 minutes of constant steady running although the reality is that most amble around. In each class however, you can spot the children with the determination and drive. They push and push and would do anything rather than stop before the 12 minutes is up - some do vomit on the line to the horror of those who are happy to walk. It is a lesson which really does polarise the students and at some point I'd love to do some follow up research to see whether there are other major personality differences between those who push themselves to the end and those who give up.

I know that drive and determination to push ourselves physically can be seen outside of sport too. It isn't necessarily about being the most competitive of people - although the two do often go hand in hand - I think it is more about being able to maintain a single-minded focus. When you want something enough - whether it is an Olympic medal or just to finish a gruelling race - that ability to keep going when everyone and everything around you is screaming at you to stop, is impossible to quantify. There's a clip which makes me both laugh and cry, showing two women trying to finish the Hawaii Ironman in 1997. It makes me laugh, because I can't help but find their bow legged gait funny, but also makes me emotional because their determination to finish their race and get to the finish line is extraordinary.    

When my colleague asked me why, all I could do was recount tales of vomit from different races, I couldn't adequately explain why. There is a sense of achievement in pushing towards a goal, in feeling that you have managed something that day, which you didn't know was possible the day before. Reaching a barrier and then pushing through it gives an extraordinary sense of achievement - this was certainly the case after we finished our race at Easter, we both felt - not quite invincible, but as though we had achieved something quite special despite our slow time and in the days that followed were desperately looking for the next challenge we could take on. Ultimately we decided to do the race again, but to get fitter and stronger and go for a faster finish.

Everyone is capable of pushing themselves over the edge physically, but I suspect that if you have to ask why someone would want to do that, you're never going to understand. If you don't know already, you never will.

A year ago I was umming and ahhing about whether to offer myself up as a potential DW partner. I look back and am a little amazed or horrified perhaps, that I even considered I could do it as at the time I had competed in a handful of division 9 hasler races and had managed one 'long' paddle... all of 12 miles. 

What a difference a year makes. I'm getting on for a stone lighter, considerably fitter and have discovered a real passion for long-distance events. I'm still not very good, but have progressed through the marathon racing rankings and feel quite comfortable paddling for 4 hours or so. It has been incredibly difficult fitting training in around long working hours, but I'm gradually getting there and everyone realises I'm just not available on Sundays until after Easter! Completing the DW has genuinely had a huge impact on my life, not least because I feel I finally was able to put years of illness behind me.

I had absolutely no idea - even when I was sitting on the start-line - whether I would be able to stay upright in a boat when I was tired, I didn't know whether I would be able to keep going when it was completely dark and I was in the middle of the Thames. Encephalitis some years before (following a bout of shingles in my ear, which went to my brain) had permanently killed off my balance mechanism; although I managed to learn to walk again, in many situations I sometimes still completely lose my balance. I had also suffered for years with debilitating migraines and a previous attempt to train for a (running) marathon had to be abandoned when every run, even of 20 minutes or so, would trigger a migraine complete with vomiting, visual disturbance and pain. With careful management I had managed to get through the DW training head-ache and migraine free, but I didn't know if the extremess of the DW race would trigger anything. I decided not to share my doubts - my reasoning was that if I didn't voice any worries, they wouldn't exist. And so it happened that I went through the race migraine free and relatively well balanced (although my support crews may choose to differ on that one!) The sense of achievement on completing something like that is immense and something no-one can ever take away. 

After our standing start on the training front last year (mine anyway, Helen's training was already underway), we gradually upped the milage to a point where we were able to paddle Waterside D, 35 miles albeit rather sedately. Despite injury (Helen's dislocated knee, dodgy wrists - mine, general aches and pains), we made the start line on a blistering hot April day. Our portaging remained shocking, there were some blips in our nutrition (too many sugary things by all accounts) and the heat very nearly did for us, but somehow we persevered, fought and dug deeper than anyone thought possible and we made it to the finish line. 

This time round, where 12 months ago I could just manage 12 miles, we are regularly paddling 20 miles and are seriously building things up. We're trying to be more organised on our training, mixing running with paddling and shorter faster sessions during the week. We still need to sort out our nutrition, but we are making progress. 

We have races scheduled and training sorted for the next few months. We sold our beloved Humphrey (extremely heavy Mystere which we could only carry on our shoulders) and have a lighter but slightly rougher looking (definitely second hand!) carbon kevlar mirage, named Steve. Helen has done her usual and has decorated him with a scull and cross-bones and to my horror last week, I discovered she had added 'bullet-holes'. They might not make it through to Easter...

At least we can lift Steve, and he is stable enough to cope in any weather. He did get put through his paces last weekend, when a 20 mile part canal part Thames jaunt turned into a blind paddle in the thickest fog, when we could barely see the bank, let alone anything in front of us. Night-time paddling will be a doddle after that.

We have practised our portaging and are getting in and out of the boat without the element of hysteria which accompanied all portages a few months ago. We now understand that a race is different to a dawdling paddle and a chat and are looking forward to seeing the finish line again at Westminster Bridge. We just hope it will be slightly quicker getting there than last time.

When I first brought Lana home all those years ago, I was just starting to try and get fit so she would come along on all my runs. As I became fitter and would do an hour+ in the mornings, she was always by my side and occasionally under my feet during one infamous lead/trip incident. In those days, an hour and a half was about her limit and when I left her home while I went on a longer weekend run, she was not impressed. Even less so on the rare mornings when I went for a cycle rather than a run, then she would sit in the window and howl until I returned. Needless to say at 5.30am, the family were not thrilled and I was banned from early morning cycles.

As my fitness peaked and troughed, so did Lana's. When illness stopped me running for a long period, for Lana, those migraine years meant walks, not runs and our early morning sessions stopped. Lana would walk while the girls canoed, but being the most neurotic of dogs she developed a pathological hatred of canoes which given our daily involvement with the sport, became a trifle difficult. 

And then along came Tess. Small, exuberant and a complete pain in the bum with her constant attempts to escape. Her arrival coincided with a final end to my migraines and gradual steps back to some semblance of fitness (although it was still somewhat sporadic). Despite their hatred of each other inside the house, they behave well outside and can even be let loose in a field, tethered together: Lana is big enough to stop Tess running off. Together they can sniff everywhere, pee every 20 paces and generally sort things out. 

Now that I'm trying to start running again to get me in a fitter state for next year's Easter 'event', the dogs are ecstatic. But it's not easy. Lana is as ever, enthusiastic and a bit mad, but her hips are not what they were and like me, she always wants to go as fast as she can, even if it's only for 10 minutes. It doesn't matter how silently I get dressed, Tess (who can usually sleep for England and is the laziest little dog in the mornings) can sense an imminent departure and starts throwing herself at the door of whichever room she has slept in. There's no way I could take Tess without Lana whose sad hurt eyes would follow me if I tried, so I leave with both dogs. The first 10 minutes is spent with me trying to run and them trying to find the perfect blade of grass. Here, no here, ah this one, no, that one, mmm, that one, ahhhh finally. Oh, and this one ... and so it goes. I'm often left running with a bag of poo until I can find a bin, which is not the most pleasant situation - but at least I'm a responsible dog owner!!

Then the run itself. Both dogs are stupidly enthusiastic once they have 'done their business' and I feel as though I'm attached to huskies. Tess makes choking and gagging noises and has a habit of stopping in her tracks if she gets a scent of something, with the result that I do a weird leap over 2 leads and 2 dogs and just have to pray I land safely on the other side. Generally I run so early that there's not much of an audience and if there are people about, at least it's dark!

But now, Lana's old age is catching up with her. She can really only manage 15 minutes - any longer and I end up with Tess straining at the lead ahead of me, while Lana bumbles along behind me. I think now as I'm getting slightly (emphasis on slightly) fitter, my run may need to be in 2 halves. 15 minutes (including the blade of grass search) quick stop back home to drop off Lana and then continuing with Tess. I'm not sure how Lana will take it, but I'm sure the family won't hesitate to let me know if she howls her protest!

It's no fun getting old.

Having had a very active few days, I am not necessarily feeling the benefit of all that exercise, more feeling chronic exhaustion and aching muscles and joints. Still, the wakeboarding was worth it - brilliant fun and although I booked it at the start of the summer (through an excellent group-on deal) the weather held out for us. We are all suffering with achey triceps and down our sides, but it was worth it. I didn't ever think I'd be able to get upright with my seriously dodgy balance, but we all managed it. If it wasn't so damned expensive at full price, I'd definitely be down there to have another go. 

Today saw my first run in months: I went with Gabi (after a paddling session) so I could blame her when I needed to walk and we did a mix of several minutes running, a minute or so walking. Hence my aching legs and hips tonight. Running is going to be a bit of a must as part of the DW training, it was a real weakness for me last time - not being able to run the portages or feeling I was run-fit was a problem. We're not planning to run the portages this time, but certainly need to feel a bit more agile and with Steve, our lighter model boat we won't feel as tired as we were trying to lug the supremely heavy Humphrey around!!

I think Lana is also feeling a bit achey too, Gabi and I took the dogs for a 2 hour walk this afternoon and Lana became slower and slower. It is going to be difficult running with her as Tess is still young and enthusiastic while for Lana the spirit is willing, but the body can't maintain the pace. I don't know how she will let me leave with just Tess - I suspect the rest of the family will be subject to an early morning howling session.

The DW training is going well (despite the aches and tiredness) and if I can improve my running I will be pleased.