June 25, 2014: Training by Climbing?

Today I’ve slapped some more varnish on my boat and oars…a plausible excuse to stay off the water and “train” in different ways while the varnish dries in the boathouse.

It’s pouring rain this afternoon, but this morning I took a vigorous hike up the mountain which faces our camp. I think a slog like that counts for training. Rocky might have carried a log on his back or rocks in his pack, but I’m not Rocky: I carried an i-Pod and kept a hand free for the bugs. There may have been some risk in this outing, my first extended uphill climb since Achilles tendon surgery last August, yet the leg and foot were pain-free and responsive. In May my doctor prescribed “A Summer in the Adirondacks” as the next step in my rehabilitation, and I’m taking him at his word. He’s my kind of doc.

This afternoon Peg and I provisioned a bit. You “shop” if you live on land, but you “provision” if you are taking it afloat, and for those of you planning to follow in your own boats, here’s a cut at our present store: Raisinets® , pouch-pack tuna, water and Gatorade®, granola, Raisinets ®, assorted power bars, Starbucks Via® packs, Raisinets ®, dehydrated  stew, dehydrated spaghetti, Raisinets ®,  an assemblage of beef jerky, crab shorts, light PJ pants for sun protection for the legs, Raisinets ®, batteries for the radio, Hermit cookies (almost gone!) and sun goop.

It’s only a 15’ boat; I’ll have to remember to leave room for me. 

I’ll confess that I also splurged on something called Endurox®, a magical “recovery powder” that a very athletic co-sextegenarian had shared with Brian and me three years ago during Row, Canada. Gentle Reader, I’m not a big fan of mysterious multi-syllabic miracle cures (except, obviously, for Raisinets®), but this stuff worked then and I’m counting on it to work again starting on Friday night.

Otherwise, it’s been a pretty uneventful and relaxing day. It’s pouring in buckets at this very moment and I am mindful that this weather, if repeated in 48 hours, may not stop the rowing but it sure will introduce real- if enlightened- discomfiture.

There’s still a Hermit left, and fresh coffee. Gotta go train.

Mo ‘latah,

Al

June 24, 2014: Training by Actually Rowing

The Think System is behind me. Yesterday I climbed into my boat and rowed.  

Resetting the ergonomics of the sliding seat, ensuring the proper security and lubrication of the oarlocks, arranging the handy little bungee cords I use to secure stuff along the sides…to be honest, all of this took longer to accomplish than the actual seven-mile initial outing. And to be totally honest - and why not be?- this brief foray on the water was itself punctuated by two separate coffee stops: Brian’s house is 2.2 miles north of my mom’s, and I can always count on him for a strong cup ‘o Joe, great insights on the news, and the epiphany that if we both head north for 1.3 miles more, Bob and Tina will augment our coffee with muffins until, well, until it’s time to head home.

That’s how I got to seven miles, four cups of coffee, and two muffins by noon yesterday.  

“Al,” you may be asking, “what did seven miles, four leisurely cups, and two Everything Muffies teach you yesterday about your state of preparedness for your journey?

Yours is a fair and good question, Gentle Reader, one that should be considered in the incubator of history. In 1969, Apollo 11 took one and one half preliminary orbits around the earth, going nowhere but checking systems and gaining steam before heading off to the moon. But nobody sits down next to you in a diner, stares into the curdled cream in his coffee, and sighs, “Man, those Apollo guys sure were something to take those extra one and one half orbits before they headed off to the moon….” And when Indy was over, did anybody ask, “Hey, how many warm-up laps did Ryan Hunter-Reay take before that flag went down?”  I think not. And Hillary? She traveled 956,733 miles as Secretary of State, far more than I will in the coming weeks. Does anyone ever ask how far she rowed before she started her remarkable round of itinerant diplomacy?

I rest my case. We each prepare in our own ways. But the chickens will come home to roost on Friday morning at 7AM when the orbits end, the flag does down, the wheels go up, and Saguenay sits 560 miles off the bow.

Today, I rest. It’s my way.

Mo’ latah!

Al