The Monster and Sea 24, Toronto Style

I’m almost recovered from last weekend’s 24 hours of the Monster and Sea 24 paddle to raise money for families battling cancer.  It was an incredible experience, but was it ever hard.

I was in Florida when I saw the Facebook post Jessica Rando made, looking for paddlers interested in getting together to do the “24” in Toronto.  I won’t say that I jumped at the chance but the idea of paddling regular shifts around the clock appealed to me at a time when I was obsessed with chasing distance for the 100/100 Paddle Challenge.  So I thought, why not?  It’s for a great cause, will fill a training need and, with the right group of people, will be a lot of fun.  I contacted Jess and was part of the team!

Our Toronto team for the “24”was awesome.  First let me say a few words about Jessica Rando, our captain.  Jess is an amazing paddler that too few people know about.  This is largely because she’s also a really good coach and is generally busy running training camps or coaching when she could be at races like the Carolina Cup or Key West.  As a result, not a lot of people have gotten the opportunity to meet her.  I’m pretty convinced that at a race like Key West she’d do really, really well and am hoping she arranges date of the training camp she runs so that she can race it next year.  Carolina Cup is more of a challenge for her, as the date seems to conflict every year with her Florida camp for northern-based paddlers, but she’d do well in that race too I think.

Jess put everything together for us for this event.  All we had to do was promote the fundraising page and show up to paddle.  She pulled together a fantastic team, with diverse backgrounds, experience and personalities, and everyone got along fantastically well.  I shouldn’t be surprised really, because everyone I’ve ever met in SUP is fantastic and would have made good teammates.  But our group for this was especially great and really supportive of each other through the wee hours of the morning on what turned out to be a pretty cold night. 

Jess’s first recruit was her husband Del DaSilva, and Jess and Del, living only a block from the river offered up their house as the staging area for the event.  They totally opened up their home to five other paddlers and all their wet, stinky paddling clothes and made sure their kitchen was stocked with food (with a fantastic level of support in the form of soups, pasta, corn bread, cookies etc. from the local SUP community).

Joining Jess and Del were myself, Anthony Bruzzese, Tracey Finley, Steve McKenzie and Julie Postill-Connolly.

I’ve paddled with Anthony for a couple of seasons and regularly over this past fall and winter, and he’s became one of my more frequent training partners.  And Tracey made her way out to my end of the city a lot over the winter to join us on the water for chilly winter workouts.  I hadn’t paddled with Steve and Julie as much, but they’re awesome and incredibly into it.  Having this kind of positive energy in the group was essential, because although this wasn’t a race, it was still a huge challenge.

I knew that Anthony was going to be my partner on the water.  Jess had decided to break us into three groups, each doing one hour shifts.  Anthony and I would be a pair, Jess and Del a pair, and Julie, Tracey and Steve would paddle together.  So about a week before I spoke to Anthony about the strategy I thought we should employ on our shifts.  I suggested a conservative approach, as I didn’t want to kill myself with some pretty big races coming up towards the end of April.  I wanted to make sure I didn’t get too tired doing this event and end up compromising some quality in the preparation running into the Carolina Cup. 

As it turns out, we ended up doing a fairly aggressive pace as we both took a few days easy leading into the 24.   After the first one-hour shift from 8:00 to 9:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, I knew I could average 8.5 km per shift at least into the night, if not for the whole thing.   For Anthony and me it became a challenge in consistency, trying to paddle well at a fairly aggressive pace each shift for exactly 60 minutes, and targeting 8.5 km each time.  We actually got through 8 of 9 shifts hitting that pace exactly, before I hit the wall with about 10 minutes left in shift eight.  I was on track to hit 75 km in 9 shifts but backed off a little in the last shift from 7:00 to 8:00 on Sunday a.m. and finished at 74 km.

While this pace was a little off race pace, it became progressively difficult from shift to shift and the whole thing became more and more of a challenge.  To the point where, now that it is over, I can say it was one of the harder things I’ve done in paddling.  So how does paddling just below race pace on flat water for an hour every three hours compare to Chattajack? Or Molokai? Or Blackburn?

There are a number of things that the 24 throws at you that makes it a challenge:

• Distance:  Okay, so it’s not non-stop, but it’s still 74 km in a 24-hour period.  I have never done that type of volume in racing or training before.  To do that distance, I had to travel at a pretty aggressive pace.  It certainly wasn’t a cruise.  It was a solid training session, repeated 9 times, and starting every 3 hours.
• Rest:  When I train twice/day I generally have 6 to 8 hours rest between sessions.  Three hours is incomplete recovery, even if the pace isn’t all out.
• Repetition:  Doing two, three or even four shifts was easy.  It wasn’t until the fifth shift started from 8:00 to 9:00 p.m. that it started to get hard.  After that it was a challenge.  I’d come off the water, walk my board up the street to Jess’ house, drop it in her front yard and then start changing into warm, dry clothes.  After tossing the wet clothes in the dryer, there was about 30 to 40 minutes to relax, get something to eat and drink, and try to stay somewhat loose.  Then it was time to start suiting up again.  The walk back down the road with the board, in the dark and cold, was just long enough to allow me to mentally prepare to get on the board and immediately fall back into my pace.  But each time I got back on the board in the overnight shift I first had to soak the deck pad of my board in the water and then try to rub all of the ice off of it.None of these things on their own should wear on you mentally, but when combined and repeated over and over there is an undeniable effect that starts to wear on you, each time more than the time before.
• Lack of sleep:  It’s one thing to paddle hard.  It’s another thing to do it round the clock.  I found the deeper we got into it the more difficult it was just because of lack of sleep.  I began to feel a lot like I do when I’m driving to or from Florida non-stop by myself.  Mentally this felt a lot like being at the wheel of a car for 22 hours straight.  I’d like to think that this was a much healthier and less mentally challenging endeavor, and there was some consolation in the fact that I wasn’t going to end up against the guard rail if I fell asleep paddling.  But the fact that this was physically demanding and done without any sleep, made each successive shift more difficult.
•  Weather:  Over the course of this winter I’ve discovered that paddling in the cold often feels more fatiguing than in the summer.  I’m not sure if it has something to do with dense, viscous, near freezing water or whether it’s just psychological and has more to do with the need to suit up in all kinds of gear and tread carefully on your icy board so you don’t slip off.  Add to it the fact that in this case we were paddling at night, in a river running with a substantial current, and it makes it even tougher.  It’s just that little bit harder to relax when you have to really pay attention to where you’re going and how you’re moving on your board.  Put it this way, I’m sure this would have been easier to attempt in Toronto in June.

In the end, I’d have to say this was harder than I’ve ever found Chattajack, even though in Chattajack I’m paddling non-stop for 5 hours.  I didn’t draft for one stroke of 24,which undoubtedly made it harder.  And then, of course, all the things I’ve mentioned above made this a really difficult challenge. 

I would have to say that as a way to accumulate volume it was great training.  The fact that I was able to do that volume with a high level of quality made it even more effective as a training activity.   So it’s nice when you’re doing something worthwhile for other people and having fun with the people you’re doing it with, and getting such a great training benefit from it as well. 

In the end our group raised over $8000 for local families who have a family member battling cancer, and had a ton of fun doing it.  The 24 is a great idea, and it’s pretty cool to be part of an event that is going on in so many other cities at the same time.  I do question the wisdom of holding it so early in the year.  I understand that it is less likely to conflict with summer races if it’s held early, however as it turns out we got lucky with the weather which allowed us to complete it.  Northern climates don’t really lend themselves to this type of activity in March, at least not with any degree of reliability.  If the river had still been frozen we wouldn’t have been able to complete the event, as the lake was too wavy to safely paddle at night.  Furthermore, as I write this one-week later there is snow on the ground and an overnight temperature of – 10 C before wind chill.  Staging this event in May would make a lot more sense.

This was a fun event and I’m glad I did it.  Sign me up for next year!

The 100/100 Challenge Complete! Now on to 1000 km…

Well, I did it. I managed to complete the 1%er version of the 100/100 Paddle Challenge – 500 miles or 805 km in 100 days. Actually it only took 79 days, 13 of which I didn’t or could not paddle, so I was able to complete it in 66 days of paddling.

You’ll recall when I wrote about taking on this challenge  click here.  I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it. There is just too much uncertainty with the weather in a typical Canadian winter to set a goal like that and have a high certainty of being able to achieve it. But the weather cooperated and I spent 16 days in Florida (including the coldest weekend of the year in Toronto), so in the end it wasn’t quite the impossible challenge I thought it might be.

To be sure I had lots of days of paddling in sub-zero Celsius
 temperatures, with wind chills in the –7 to –10 C range. There were lots of days where I had to contend with ice building up on my board and paddle, and even the legs of my dry suit. But the massive ice shelves, which sometimes form along the shore of Lake Ontario didn’t build up this year, which allowed me continued access to the water. There were only a few days with big storms blowing in from the east that rendered the lake un-paddle-able with massive waves and winds so strong you couldn’t possibly paddle into them.

Instead I enjoyed lots of days with moderate winds and waves
in the 2 to 3 foot range, which gave me lots of opportunities to refine my skills in the type of water we’ll see in the Carolina Cup. Conditions actually couldn’t have been any better! So let’s take a look at how this experience has had an impact on my preparation for races in 2016.

Maintaining strength training while chasing mileage

One of my big concerns throughout the challenge was maintaining development of power and power endurance while chasing kilometers. If you’ve read some of my early blogs on periodized training, you’ll know what a high priority I place on strength training for SUP. You’ll also know that throughout my career as a sprint canoe paddler I always had a period of two to three months off the water in which the training focus was development of a non-specific aerobic base, max strength and power/power endurance. That time off the water allowed me to take a step away from the boat and recharge and refresh mentally for the season ahead. I’d get on the water fit beyond belief and hungry, and this resulted in a sustained high level of performance throughout the season.

This year, once it was apparent that it was going to be possible to be on the water regularly at least four times a week for an extended period into the winter, I had to take a different approach to periodizing my work, moving to something called “block periodization”. I’ll explain more about block periodization in a future blog post and will be applying it to training programs for year round paddlers over at Paddle Monster, but for now it’s enough to say that I was diligent to get into the gym a minimum of three times per week for quality strength work in which I ran through two cycles of basic strength development, power development and then power endurance development. Actually I’m just finishing the second power development cycle now and have a three-week block of power endurance leading into the Carolina Cup.

As I log all my training and keep track of what I do from year to year, I know that my power is actually better this year than it has been for many years, while my power endurance is at a high level after only one cycle. It’s somewhat ironic that in a year where I’ve paddled more and been in the gym a little less that my power is better. I think I’ve found the optimal balance between paddling and intense gym work this winter and the results are showing in the weights that I am able to move explosively.

Development of technical skills

The development of technical skills really falls into two categories. The first is the refinement of flat-water technique that is associated with moving the board fast and efficiently. The second has to do with the array of skills required to make the most out of whatever big, open water conditions are offering, while maintaining some semblance of the flat-water technique that makes the board go fast.

In November and December I was blogging a lot about technique and looking at subtleties in the stroke that make it easier to pull your board past the paddle as effectively as possible using big muscles and body weight. The best water to train that technique on is stable, flat water like I have on the tiny river I grew up on in Oakville. Conditions don’t change much day-to-day and that allows me to do the quality repetitions required to develop really effective technique and develop an acute awareness of what I’m doing. As my technique has subtly evolved since starting SUP, I’ve increasingly learned to isolate parts of the stroke, experiment with them and see the effects of this experimentation through speeds recorded on my GPS. I feel like I made big progress technically in the early part of the winter before the river froze over, improved my flat-water speed for both short sprints and extended periods, and discovered new drills and new ways to explain what I am feeling to others.

Throughout the winter, and exclusively once the river was frozen
over, I was often paddling in some type of choppy water. Even those conditions that could be considered “flat” were very windy. Conditions on Lake Ontario are different every day, and with the stronger winter winds I paddled in lots of two to three foot waves, and occasionally ocean like conditions with shoulder high waves. Seeing these conditions so regularly helped me get a lot better at making the most of whatever the conditions are offering, so I’m confident I’ll feel more comfortable racing on the ocean this year.

Normally every spring I have to go through a period of readjustment as I get back on the water after a winter break. There is very much a period of relearning some of the finer points of technique. It takes me a while to feel the water again even in flat water, let alone feel comfortable in bigger conditions. This year I feel like the learning never stopped. I got better day-by-day through the winter just like I usually do through the paddling season. This should put me in good stead for early season events like the Carolina Cup and Key West. When you consider that two years ago I raced Carolina with less than 200 km of training under my belt and did okay, I should be much better prepared this year to face the challenge of racing most of the world’s best racers.

Transference of non-specific to specific fitness

Normally, when I take a break from paddling over the winter I come back to the water in incredible shape. I’ve worked hard at developing various aspects of cardiovascular fitness on land and strength and power in the gym. While this helps provide me with a tremendous foundation of fitness to carry into the paddling season, it doesn’t immediately transfer into being in improved “paddling shape”. It takes time to convert dry land fitness into the fitness required to paddle hard for extended periods. Paddling places different demands on connective tissue than training in the gym does, and the movement patterns and sequencing of contractions of muscles involved is entirely unique to the paddling movement. Similarly, it’s hard to engage the specific paddling muscles as effectively on land as it is on the water for cardiovascular work, and even after engaging in a solid winter of dry land cardiovascular work the oxygen carrying capacity and mitochondrial activity within specific paddling muscles isn’t at the level it is after effective on water training. It takes time to transfer superior dry land fitness into something that is truly meaningful on the water.

With the different approach I’ve taken this year by being on the water all winter any fitness gains I’ve made through non-specific (i.e. non-paddling) methods on land have been consolidated concurrently with gains in specific fitness I’ve made working on the water. The result is that I feel I’m in fantastic paddling shape on an almost daily basis. Does that mean I’m in race shape? No. Far from it. There are specific things involved in developing race fitness that I haven’t gotten to yet, but will over the next few weeks heading into Carolina. I’m hopeful that with the paddling base I’ve done, that race preparation training will go more smoothly, and be more effective than normal for this stage of the race season.

Psychological effects of paddling all winter

Staying on the water all year may have negative psychological effects for those that regularly, from year to year, are able to paddle year round. At some point there must be a mental fatigue that is going to set in, even if programming is carefully monitored to avoid a physiological fatigue. This staleness can most definitely have a negative impact on your performance in daily training. And if your daily training performances are suffering, over time this is going to catch up with you and result in a decline in race performance.

However after just one winter of continued paddling I have never been more excited about it. This winter has been a gift. It’s been the easiest psychologically of my life. It’s officially spring now and I feel like we didn’t even have a winter. For sure, the unusually mild weather alone has had an impact on the mental state of everyone living in my part of the world. Compared to the last few winters everything has been easier. Less snow shoveling, fewer days of bitter, polar vortex cold and more sunshine creeping through the usual cover of winter clouds have all combined to leave people in higher spirits in mid-March than usual. But it’s more than that for me.

Someone said to me recently that I “seemed really happy”. I’ll admit to normally getting a bit grouchy by mid-February as winter drags on and on. I thought about it, and yes, I have been really happy. This person said, “maybe it’s because you’ve been paddling all winter”, and I have to say I 100% agree.

Being on the water has always been a place that’s made me happy. There’s something about being away from all of the noise and commotion on land that I find very peaceful. Even when the water is choppy and the wind is howling I find it relaxing and cleansing to be off shore and away from it all. You’re more in tune with nature, and the great part about finding that link to nature on the water is that I don’t have to travel the great distances needed to find that connection on land. It’s right there, just a few moments away after I push off the dock or wade into the water and hop on my board. I’d have to drive a few hundred kilometers to find the same connection to nature on land.

There’s something about the feeling of water loaded against your paddle that makes you feel like you’re part of it. What can be more natural when the adult human body is 60% composed of water than feeling that connection to it? When life as we know it on land evolved millions of years ago from the ocean, what else can connect you more to what’s basic and essential on this planet than being on the water? I want to feel the water against my paddle, watch the nose wave as my board cuts through it, and hear the sound that I identify with good, effective strokes. Some people enjoy putting on their ear buds and listening to music while paddling. I could never do that as I’d be deprived of the incredibly symphony of sound all around me. I want my senses to bask in everything that being on the water can stimulate them with. It’s cleansing. It’s refreshing. Even the most demanding workout on the water, or paddling in the roughest, most challenging conditions always leaves me mentally refreshed and recharged. Being on the water lifts my spirits; it makes me happy.

I don’t think you can truly appreciate how intensely beautiful winter paddling on a big body of water with an endless horizon like Lake Ontario can be until you try it. With the sun lower in the sky, the intensity of the sun’s reflection, glistening like billions of diamonds is even more intense than in the summer. And whether it’s because such brilliance is set against a greyer, harsher background or because we generally don’t see the sun as much during the winter, you appreciate that beauty much more than in summer.

There were many days in a row where we didn’t see the sun, but that only allowed me to realize that all the various shades of greys and icy blues of winter can paint an incredibly beautiful picture on their own. Some of the skies I was privileged to paddle under this winter were breathtaking. I found myself taking a few moments on just about every paddle, usually when turning around, to sit on my board and just soak in my surroundings, marveling at how incredible they were and how lucky I was to be out there, alone, appreciating it. I’d never seen this side of winter before, and never would if I wasn’t out on the water.

While some of my most cherished moments with nature came on the days I paddled alone, I was fortunate to be able to paddle at least half of the time throughout the winter with others. I’ve always enjoyed the social aspect of paddling, and SUP in particular, and have found that sharing the joys of being on the water with others always makes paddling better. But facing the challenges of winter paddling together with others seems to intensify that experience. Dealing with icy cold wind, ice building up underneath your feet, lifting a heavy, ice laden board up onto your car after paddling, and changing after a workout outside in the intense cold are things that aren’t for everyone. Overcoming these challenges together and then sitting inside warming up over a coffee, feeling the residual tingle that crisp winter air leaves on your face, and talking story about the paddle you just completed takes the typical bonding that doing a workout with others provides to an entirely new level. New friendships were made this winter and old ones intensified, all from going through those few extra hoops that winter demands in order to do an activity we share a love for.

Engaging in the 100/100 Paddle Challenge this year was the best thing I could ever do. Not just because it was a great motivator that helped me paddle more through the winter than ever before, but also because it got me outside, and back on the water where I’m happiest. It was a like an incredible gift to me. I never imagined I could paddle regularly throughout a Canadian winter. In actually doing so I saw some of the most beautiful things I’ve seen on the water. Having competed this winter on the water I can’t imagine not attempting another.

So I’ve completed the all 805 km of my 100/100 Paddle Challenge goal. It’s now on to new goals, the first of which has to be 1000 km, which is a nice round number and approximately 621 miles, by the end of the Challenge on April 9th. Achieving that goal will undoubtedly help me achieve others I set for the summer. Thanks to Julia and Lisa for their hard work in creating the 100/100 Challenge and moderating the Facebook page that everyone shares their experiences through. To everyone who undertook the Challenge and shared his or her experiences this winter, thank you. You motivated and inspired me and helped me appreciate even more how much I love to paddle.