3 weeks til take-off!

This time 3 weeks from now G and I will be at the airport waiting to board our flight to Hong Kong. We'll probably be hyped on our signature double espressos and nattering excitedly about the championships and living our dream. In between the moans of dread at the looming 15 hour flight ahead.. blargh! Not looking forward to that at ALL. But what's on the other side... aaaah!

We spent the weekend in Connecticut, working a community festival that unfortunately ended in near crashes and a sinking only four races into it. Converging rivers, crazy currents and nutso waves forced an early cancellation - sometimes we forget just how dependent we are on the mother nature. We paddle through rain and snow, fire and .. ok ok maybe not snow and fire. But speaking of insane weather - we had tornado warnings here last week. And STILL G and I agonized over whether or not to attempt the drive to Montreal for practice.

"Oh eff it, let's just go."
"OK." ... five minutes later...
"Dude we should just stay home. One practice won't kill us. But the weather might."
"Yeah, ok, we should be smart. Let's stay home and just do a killer workout here."
"Yeah!" ... five minutes later...
"It doesn't look SO bad. Wanna just go?"
"Umm... yeah... but I dunno..."
And so on and so on. Really? We questioned a TORNADO? HAHAHA. That's dedication! (Or insanity? You decide!) Ultimately we decided to stay home. And then practice was cancelled. And 2.5 inches of rain caused flash flooding and insanity in Montreal - so it proved to be the right decision.

Here's hoping for sun and warmth tomorrow!

Less than a month to Hong Kong

Goodness... so much time has elapsed and so much has happened. G is mighty upset with me for letting this blog languish so long...

"So YOU write something then" I told her. Again.
"No, I'm afraid to."
"Why?"
"Because you told me I better not screw it up. So I am NOT touching it."
HAHA. Well I've been mad busy and completely irresponsible with it. So let's see.. where did we leave off?

Myrtle Beach Training Camp (mid april)
Totally brilliant, amazing time. We trained, we raced, we massaged our aching bodies on those goshdarnawful foam rollers, we soaked in the hot tub, walked on the beach, and bonded as a team. Brilliant. Then we came home. Yuck.

Myrtle Beach Dragonboat Festival (end of april)
G and I stayed an extra week to work a community festival, while the rest of the team went home. G took off for a few days to do some traveling, while I stayed put and worked the community practices. I bunked with three other coaches, all men, which worked out perfectly! Before you get any naughty ideas...i only meant that I got treated like a princess... as the sole girl I got the master bedroom (king bed, ocean front, private bathroom) while the three of them took the bunk beds and the couch. They cooked me dinner, drove me around (seeing as I was car-less) ... see what I mean? Perfect. The week ended all too soon though, and, with the culminating event on Saturday, our dorm-room disbanded. Then it was time for G, R and I to stuff ourselves back into the car and make the loooooong drive home. Which we survived. Friendships intact. (Krispy Kreme Donuts helped.)

Montreal Training Weekend (2nd weekend in may)
Two weekends after our return, we had another camp at our home base. G begged off to attend her son's college graduation (geez woman, where are your priorities!?), but the rest of our crew and I took on two days of torture from our assistant coach - by the end of which I was convinced I no longer knew anything about paddling nor was I deserving of a spot on the boat. Video reviews were embarrassing as hell.  On the funny side, coach decided to also give me some tips on steering the mad crazy turning 2000m race in Hong Kong. That I get to do on the FIRST day of racing. No pressure at all. To make a long story shortish... I ended up being catapulted off the back of the boat not just once, but twice. Luckily each time I neither swallowed the dirty nasty things-often-float-in-it water nor lost my newly acquired Oakleys. Luckily also I didn't smack the boat into the wall of the canal either.

"Run and shower. You have 10 minutes til the gym closes!" Coach P urged me at the end of that fateful  dunking day.
"Nah, I'll just shower at V's later."
"NO! You'll have an INFECTION by the time you get there. Go shower NOW!"
Well, he didn't have to tell me twice. I ran off to the gym, scrubbed clean, changed, got to V's and showered again just for good measure. And my health and eyesight?  All still good!

On-Water Practices (now til the end of summer....)
Fully on the water now (no more indoor tank!)... and 3 practices in I managed to figure it all out and get my "yeah I'm a good paddler" mojo back... the team is looking strong, feeling powerful and fast... it's goosebump good!

First Competition of the Season & a Marathon (last weekend)
Saturday we had our first competition in Montreal. 2 days before the races I am approached by a paddler from another team.
"Hey L, I hear you're steering the 1K on Saturday!"
"Err.. what?"
"Yeah, I just talked to M and she says she's not doing that one, YOU are."
WELL SHIT. There's only one turn but SHIT last turns I did I plummeted into the canal. Thanks for TELLING me though coach. Way to go.

Anyway.. blah blah blah... everything went even more brilliantly than expected. Our teammate M, who is new to the steering game and has been training hard to get herself ready for the world stage, steered us in the 500m sprints... and nailed it. Test 1 - done. Test 2? Ya, that one got nailed too. I didn't fly off the boat, didn't let anyone pass us, and didn't make my turn too wide. I hugged those four buoys on the course like my life depended on it. (And it did .. cuz G has threatened to paddle my butt if I mess up. Good naturedly of course. Just a little sisterly encouragement. Hee.) Somehow I managed to pull it off ... it was surprising how smooth and just plain gorgeous that boat of elite kickass women felt under my oar. It was sorta magical.

The next day G ran what has become our tradition - the Burlington marathon. This time I wasn't running though.. foot's not ready for that yet, but G CREAMED it. Ran her fastest time yet, and made me so proud. She's a superstar :)

G and crazy K running together last Sunday :)

Next... I need a nap.

Five Reasons Why You Should Go to Training Camp

We're in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina at present...halfway through a week-long, intensive training camp. Since Sunday, we've been on the water twice a day - we're exhausted; we come close to puking several times daily; our lats, shoulders, abs, legs, backs are screaming even when we're sitting still - and yet we can't wait for the next round. Why is this such an important and welcome ritual for us? I was discussing the whole concept of camp with A this week... we discussed the cons (it's expensive, it's intensive, you're using vacation time (if you're lucky enough to have any or a job that gives you some), it's far away... etc). Could the same stuff be accomplished closer to home? In two days rather than six? Could you give the same amount of intensity at a day camp rather than an overnight away camp he asked? So I took his questions, pondered a while and decided that for any team that is serious about getting results on a world stage - camp is critical. Here's why:

1. Focus
At camp, there are no distractions. Sure your back hurts and, once you lower your groaning self into the hot swirling waters between paddling sessions, you don't want your jaunts in the hot tub to end, but there is nothing between you and improvement while you are here. You paddle when you're hungry, tired, sunburned, sick, aching, bleeding, blistered... and these are the times when you can really improve. If 20 of you can paddle through all of that - your team will be stronger, faster, closer to the gold.

2. Bonding
There is nothing like 7 days spent 24/7 with one another to bring you closer. When you eat, sleep, cook, play, work, laugh, console, cry, and more with one another in close quarters, you gain insight into individual personalities, including your own, and see what makes the team hum and roll. You begin to care for your team mates deeply - you massage each others' knots between sets; you pick up on subtleties in their expressions; you realize you love these people so fiercely that you would put yourself in harm's way for them. But the camraderie is just a bonus... what makes this bonding so crucial is that it becomes a precusor to #3. Without bonding, you can't have....

3. Unity
One of the first exercises coach had us do this week was get our rhythm going, and paddle with our eyes closed. This isn't a new concept, but it's incredibly effective. When you have 20 people completely connected with one another, with the movement of the boat, with the water - shutting off one of the senses deepens the sensation. Yes amateur teams can do this quite successfully, but when you get a team with THIS much experience... WOW. You can feel the whoosh whoosh of the paddles striking the water as much as you can hear it - perhaps even more so. You anticipate that push and glide. You can predict where it comes next. You hear a call for a pickup, or a stronger push - and you can respond in unison, as one big powerful machine because you have unity. You are no longer an individual - you are a component of a bigger, better, single unit. It's goosebump-crazy-good!

4. Inspiration
If 19 other people can do it - so can you. If you can do it, so can 19 other people. You lead by example and follow your leader(s). In the group - you all push one another beyond your limits, your perceived capabilities... there is no room for "I can't". In fact, "can't" gets removed from your vocabulary, from your consciousness.

5. Fun
Remember when you used to go out for recess and play with your friends? How you would swing on the monkey bars and try things you saw your mates doing? How you would play tag, and kick ball and get all sweaty and dirty with them? How you would come back inside all grass-stained, muddy, sticky and HAPPY? Camp is recess for grownups. It's good for the heart and soul as much as for your technique and form. You can't be a good athlete if all you have is a healthy body - you have to have the  mind to go with it. And fun is often the last thing on our list of considerations as we get older. But at camp we can leave our grownup woes behind - forget the bills and the to do lists and the stresses of our daily adult lives. Go regress, have fun, restart your happy!

How to increase your max bench press in five easy steps

And eat bananas, drink little tiny sodas and
learn how to drive with your knees!

1. Go heavy. Then go heavier than you think you're capable of.
2. Alternate between heavy negatives on the bench and heavy (h-e-a-v-y!) dumbbell presses.
3. Don't pout. Own up to it and just do it.*
4. Fockus. Laugh. Relax. Then really get your shit together and FOCKUS.
5. Throw in some bikram yoga, then go back to #1 and do it all again.

Yeah, not so easy, but that's the short and shorter of it. For weeks now we've been killing ourselves trying to figure out how the heck to improve on the bench. We've read everything (OK, I've read and G has gone along with my crazy ideas and experiments), tried all that seemed reasonable (and there's a lot that didn't) and really worked hard this past month. So hard in fact, that I haven't had time to blink, much less post anything here. Sorry dear reader!

And now, here we are, on the eve of the eve of the last fit test of the season. One more, and we're clear to hit the water in a sunny southern state for a delicious week of hellish training at the get-your-shit-together hands of our coach. The last few sessions have not paled from some of our earlier experiences. Far from it. For example, channeling both Coach A and my pal Larry (former Marine, hard as nails with a southern twang) in my head I picked up the 60lb dumbbells and went for the flat bench. I managed to get the weights on my thighs, then to my chest and laid (lied? reclined?) down. Now flat, I was ready to lift the suckers up - but I needed a little help. G was there, right and ready as ever.

"I don't know if I can help you," she said. "Those are HEAVY."
"Of course you can," I said. "You're a bloody RHINO."
"OK, let's go."

She leaned forward, ready... hands at my wrists.. but as we tried to go up, something went terribly wrong. Suddenly I couldn't breathe. Something was mashing in my face. Something soft and warm and... i had to drop the weights quickly. What the heck happened? Weelllll.... my nose got caught in her ample chest and guess what.... fits of pee-your-pants laughter began before the weights fully left my hands. Even one of the normally super-serious guys couldn't contain himself.

Five minutes later, I was able to try again.

"You're going to try the same weight?" G asked incredulously.
"Hell yeah. Just keep your boobs outta my face!"
G shrugged. "OK, let's do it."
We did it. So awesome.

Our routine has also now come to include bikram yoga. Now I have always hated yoga, but I can't live without this! Neither of us can. We missed our once-weekly-session last week... but today we were back. And oh-sweet-heavenly-angels we about died today. I'm not sure what G's problem was, but I was exhausted and the large snack I had 30 minutes prior was pretty poor judgement. Then there was this horrendous incense stick burning next to my overly-sensitive-nose which made me nauseous even before the sweat had a chance to glisten and glide down my skin.

90 minutes later, as we rolled into our last savasana (aka, aptly enough, dead body pose), G mouthed "we survived!" at me. I'm thinking, really, I think I'm pretty much dead and moved onto the next life here..., but I blinked at her in feeble agreement. And somehow made it out of the room, into my clothes and out to my car. I don't really remember the ride home...

*Credit for the voice in my head goes to Coach A on this one. Actually, probably 1-3 if I want to be totally honest. But I don't. I want to be able to say that I figured some of this out myself. And #2 goes to my friend Larry who is just a freakin' beast and who must know what he's talking about, cuz 425 ain't no joking matter if you ask me.

We have a new traveling companion...

We have such amazing supporters.

We got a package yesterday. Just a simple manila envelope with the words "to the Hungry Dragons. Open when you cross the border."

"It's from K," G texted me when she got it. "Do we trust her?"
I'm thinking no, but surely even she wouldn't put anything in there that would get us in trouble.

So we dutifully keep it closed til we cross the border. Then we rip it open with glee.

Inside are: dragon temporary tattoos, the two-headed dragon you see here (she will be traveling in whichever car we travel to practice in from now on, boy is she gonna get some mileage!), a stack of papers, a CD and an obviously used pair of socks. SOCKS?

Then, we get an email.

"I just wanted to let you guys know that I am really proud of you! Going to Hong Kong??? How cool is that!!!????


AND, you are going to represent Canada! Doesn't get any better than that. Sorry America, but Canadians are more welcomed around the world... And having a Canadian husband it's even more special!

GOOD TO KNOW, cuz I'm working on mine :)

So for that reason, I thought you should get familiar with everything about Canada: Imagine yourselves at the opening ceremony in Hong Kong and they start playing the Canadian National Anthem?? You gotta get familiar with the words, so from now on you have to promise you'll listen to the CD at least once on EVERY trip to Montreal!

Promise? (this is the part where you both say out loud: Promise!) Say it!"

WE PROMISE!!

"I have also included a print out of the anthem and some facts about Canada. Since I'm looking to save the environment it's printed on the back of our news prints. 

Go out there and paddle hard! 

Puke!!"

WE PLAN ON IT!! THANK YOU K and all the rest of you who have encouraged us, pushed us, listened to us, put up with us thus far... we could not have gotten here without you. XO.

How to change in a moving car and not get arrested for lewdness

Today was a tough day. We had a killer paddling practice, then an intense circuit, followed by a fast and furious drive home to a funeral.

"We need to RUN out of here at noon" G mouthed at me across the circuit room.
"Yeah, I know"... I was bumming because that meant no hang time with my bethrothed, who is leaving on a lengthy-for-my-lovestruck-heart trip, but you do what you have to do.

We finished the circuit, said our hurried goodbyes (left our teammates to clean up the circuit equipment), and booked it from the gym. We'd made our plan on the way up... G would drive to the border while I changed into funeral-appropriate attire; and then I would drive from the border while G changed.

First, we ate. My egg salad stunk up the car before i even unscrewed the container. Our stomachs growled  audibly. I smashed it between the two slices of bread and took a bite that I think demolished at least half the entire sandwich. Oh it was goooood!

"Holy shit, you INHALED that sandwich!" I'm not sure if G was impressed with me or sickened.
"Dude!! I was HUNGRY!"

Sandwich. Apple. Ghirardelli mint chocolate square. Heaven.

Now, to get out of my nasty, stinky, wet workout clothes and into something a little more civilized. I reached around the back of my seat, into my gym bag, and pulled out my bra and underpants. Off came my jacket, under which I was completely naked, and approached the challenge of a) hooking my bra behind my back (tough when every muscle is screaming in objection) and b) positioning myself in such a way as to not "show my wares" to passing cars.

We started passing a car on the left. I ducked down. Still couldn't hook the damn thing. Passed another, ducked again. Still no luck hooking (haha i know what you're thinking) and G starts chortling.

"See that SUV in front of us? I think the driver is a bit distracted. I think he's looking in his rear view mirror a LOT." Good for him. Hopefully he doesn't plow into the guard rail. Meanwhile, still can't hook stupid bra.

"Screw this. I'm doing it the old fashioned way." I take the thing off, flip it around and upside down, hook it in front, shift it back, shove my arms through the straps and adjust. Fait accomplis! Hoo-freakin-ray! I sit up, relieved as all heck and stretch out the cramp in my neck.

Too bad the bra's color is exactly the same shade as my still-otherwise-naked upper half. I quickly realize why the drivers of the cars we're passing are doing double takes at us. But I can't do much about it because G is making me laugh so hard that my aching abs can't take the pain anymore. We start going through role-plays of coming up to the border checkpoint.

"Hi sir. Yes we were at dragonboat practice."
"Why is your passenger naked?"
"Because she can't get her arms behind her back."
We collapse in fits of giggles. And on it goes... you get the idea.


I get the shirt on, then it's time for the lower half. Off come the lycra tights, on go the undies. Then the pants. No mean feat for a giant in a short-person's car. Even with the seat pushed all the way back and reclined. Try it sometime.

It's been such an endeavor I decided to attack makeup next, and leave my feet for last.

"Don't pull any bullshit now," I warn G, who is prone to slamming on the brakes at the most inconvenient-for-me times just to amuse herself.
"Don't worry, I won't do anything when you are doing your eyes. But lipstick, well, no guarantees there."
What's that word she taught me? ah yes.. "chocheta!"

I manage to make myself look presentable, mouth included, just as we get to the border. Ok, time for my feet. There are two lanes open. We get in the left lane, and advance. G decides to do the whiplash thing. I could seriously smack her. Why am I thinking about it, I ask myself, and punch her in the arm. She's not phased at all. Were she not driving I might have considered a throat punch. But as it was...

I put my right foot on the dash, hike up my pant leg, and pull on a knee sock (I'm gonna be wearing tall boots). What does my traveling idiot do? Gestures to the guy in the car next to us, points to my leg and starts mouthing "sexxxxxy leg!" ARGH!! I punch her again. She of course, is trying not to pee herself with laughter. What's that saying about laughing at your own jokes??? :)

We get up to the checkpoint, I look great and she looks like sweaty crap, we make small talk with the guard and are waved on through. We pull over and Part 2 of the Changing Game begins.

I have to move the driver's seat back, a LOT. G gets into the passenger seat and comments how spacious it is. "It's like an entire bedroom. Wow, you're big." She's trying to get her underpants on now.. and I collapse in fits of giggles as I envision this car being on an episode of CSI where they fingerprint the car and discover two different butt imprints on the passenger seat.

2 minutes later: "How come you, a giant, were able to change so quickly, and I can't?" Envision: G's ass is in the windshield, her head up by the sun roof, and she's trying desperately to adjust her clothes on her increasingly sweaty-from-the-stress-of-it body. I of course decide this is the perfect time to slam on the brakes of this zippy little Cadillac. Hot damn!

Blah blah blah... fast forward.... and get in a sober mood. Because we are pulling into the parking lot of a little church, parking the car, and making our way inside to say goodbye to a friend.

This friend was a member of our mother organization, the one where we started this whole paddling adventure. D was one who had made a deep impression on us - a kind, generous, giving soul who ALWAYS asked us how our training was going and was TRULY interested in the answer. I remember him getting on my boat and not wanting to get off. When I first started coaching and steering, he and his wife were always there, paddling their hearts out. When I challenged the crews to start training for the insane-sounding 20K race... he was always one of the first to show up with a huge smile on his face. (Did I mention this man was nearing 70 at the time?) He did double practices, helped out with the boats, always up for whatever needed doing and ALWAYS ALWAYS had a good word and a smile. Until I read his obituary this week I had no idea just how incredible this man truly was. And then today, hearing so many stories at his memorial service.. well, I cried for the loss. Because the story is tragic. D and his wife were traveling from VT to ME to visit family. Just a few miles from their destination, D succumbed to fatigue, nodded off, was awakened when his car hit the rumble strip, over-corrected, and crashed. His injuries would be fatal, while his wife would survive. Dear mother help me understand this one. Though the story is tragic, the lesson is magic. D's legacy is this: love deeply; give selflessly; talk to strangers; take a gazillion photographs; give blood; connect with your community and; wear silly hats.

R.I.P. D - you will be very very missed.

Personal best in the Miami marathon (and period!)

the marathon girl

G's back, full of vim and vigor as the saying goes. The Miami sun did her a world of good,  she came home with two medals, and shaved 9 minutes off last year's time in the 13.1. That's HUGE!! Congrats to my girl. Next year A & I are going to join her in the fun. A 5K on Saturday followed by the 13.1 on Sunday... with 25,000 runners. Sounds like glorious mayhem!

But, despite her accomplishments in this race, she has proved incapable of coming up with her rendition of last month's fit test.

"I was on the beeeeach!" she says, throwing up her hands. "You can't write on the beach!" (No, of course you can't - the stupid little umbrella keeps falling out of the drink and rolling across the page. What was I thinking?)

I'm not feeling particularly verbose today. We're both hurting from yesterday's circuit. We were divided into teams of 4-5 people, and had 5 stations to attack: PLUs, bench press on ball (with 30, 40 or 45lbs barbells); jump rope; wall balls, and lunges. The goal was for each team to complete, between them, around 2000 reps of each exercise. Can you do the math? 2000 divided by 4 people = 500 reps. HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. We did our favorites first (for me that's bench and jumprope, followed by wall balls, PLUs and lunges, in that order), then attempted the ones we weren't so crazy about. I have blocked out everything past 220 reps on the bench, 600 jumprope jumps, 150 walls balls, 160 lunges and somewhere around 140 PLUs. At that point it was just getting to an even number, crawling over to the wall, marking down your number, crawling to the next station, and trying to make those parts of your body that weren't seizing up to keep going. OK OK so it wasn't quite that dramatic, but we did seriously want to puke at the end of that. We were nastier, sweatier, smellier than we'd been in a long time. It was AWESOME.

Today we've been exchanging texts since 7am.

We're gonna hurt today.


I am sore.


I can't lift things up or put them down.


Lord, my legs hurt more than the day after the half marathon!


My abs just said "hello!"


I hurt from neck to feet.


My legs... owwwww....


Manhattans are a great way to forget your pain though! Now a good night's sleep and two-hours of practice tomorrow. Can't wait!