Countdown to Catalina
Outrigger season is peaking as crews gear up to head down to the US Outrigger Championships in Catalina in two weeks.
Tomorrow I'll head out to paddle with my gang from the SFOCC - 18 or so miles from San Francisco towards San Leandro jumping out of the boats and hauling ourselves back in to practice water changes for the 31 mile race down south. Good times.
With fog and low temps in the 50's forecast this is not one of the ideal days for jumping in and out of the bay but by day's end we'll look back on it with laughter and amusement - and copious amounts of bruising - once we're warm in the sun in the 'east bay with beers in hand, making plans for Catalina, brimming with anticipation and excitement.
We're missing out on a few of the last local long-distance races which makes me a little wistful at the suddenly impending season's end as I think about how much I love this sport and meeting the people involved in it; the races I've done, the races I've yet to go to, the task of figuring out OC1 looming ahead in my future and how to once and for all master the timing issues that plague my stroke.
I guess that's what the end of the season is for. You pack up your gear, reflect, take some time off, think about what you can do during the off-season to improve, make new goals, recommit yourself, put a date on the calendar for 2011 - some key race in a beautiful place, a week of paddling in Australia, Molokai.
Then you take care of your neglected paddle, sand it, dry it, varnish it, admire it and prop it up in the corner to remind you of your new commitments and the memories of a season now passed.
But suddenly there's a sense of a vast amount of freed up time ahead and limited dating options.
Time to reconnect with my social life and relationships, rejoin my running group on Saturdays and start planning for the ski season ahead. Give it until mid-December when the skis will replace the paddle propped up in the corner as I admire them, love them and fantasize about the upcoming winter. California - Utah - Whistler - ? Jumping on the bandwagon of a boys' trip to Colorado - a virgin voyage to Mammoth. Wait, didn't someone say France? When was that? Who was that? Merde.
Let it snow! But not just yet. Imua Catalina crews!
Tomorrow I'll head out to paddle with my gang from the SFOCC - 18 or so miles from San Francisco towards San Leandro jumping out of the boats and hauling ourselves back in to practice water changes for the 31 mile race down south. Good times.
With fog and low temps in the 50's forecast this is not one of the ideal days for jumping in and out of the bay but by day's end we'll look back on it with laughter and amusement - and copious amounts of bruising - once we're warm in the sun in the 'east bay with beers in hand, making plans for Catalina, brimming with anticipation and excitement.
We're missing out on a few of the last local long-distance races which makes me a little wistful at the suddenly impending season's end as I think about how much I love this sport and meeting the people involved in it; the races I've done, the races I've yet to go to, the task of figuring out OC1 looming ahead in my future and how to once and for all master the timing issues that plague my stroke.
I guess that's what the end of the season is for. You pack up your gear, reflect, take some time off, think about what you can do during the off-season to improve, make new goals, recommit yourself, put a date on the calendar for 2011 - some key race in a beautiful place, a week of paddling in Australia, Molokai.Then you take care of your neglected paddle, sand it, dry it, varnish it, admire it and prop it up in the corner to remind you of your new commitments and the memories of a season now passed.But suddenly there's a sense of a vast amount of freed up time ahead and limited dating options.
Time to reconnect with my social life and relationships, rejoin my running group on Saturdays and start planning for the ski season ahead. Give it until mid-December when the skis will replace the paddle propped up in the corner as I admire them, love them and fantasize about the upcoming winter. California - Utah - Whistler - ? Jumping on the bandwagon of a boys' trip to Colorado - a virgin voyage to Mammoth. Wait, didn't someone say France? When was that? Who was that? Merde.
Let it snow! But not just yet. Imua Catalina crews!
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