Row, Row, Row Your Boat...

With all of the water in and around Minnesota, I can say with absolute confidence that the St. Croix River is my favorite body of water. At over 160 miles long, with the lower 120 miles splitting Minnesota from Wisconsin and eventually ending when it connects to the Mississippi River, the St. Croix is a world away from the hustle and bustle of the city. This beautiful spring-fed river is protected by the National Park Service and interestingly, Minneapolis and St. Paul both get portions of its power from a hydroelectric plant along the St. Croix. If you are ever in the region, this is a must see/experience.

Last weekend I headed up to the northern part of the river with Mike, Molly and Pete. We rented four kayaks and mapped out a thirty-mile stretch that we would paddle over the course of two days. Our gear was all bagged up and water-tight and shoved into the dry storage compartments of the kayaks. It was a chance to get out of the city, away from our phones, and exist with nothing but our own thoughts. And that's what we did.

Heading down river, despite the high water-levels, was not as easy as it might sound. It was a great ride when we could catch the current and easily maneuver down-river. Other times we were paddling into a head-wind that was just strong enough to make paddling less easy and more like a workout. In fact we had a solid day of core and upper body work. But with that we also had the most perfect weather for a camping trip. The last month we've had some pretty oppressive heat and humidity. But not this weekend. We enjoyed low to mid 80s and virtually no humidity. For the majority of the trip each of us paddled in solitude, within sight of one another, but with enough space to enjoy our surroundings. I can't remember having any epiphanies or serious contemplations about anything, it was more like a great day of meditation.

The majority of our travels were through the picturesque state park. Along each stretch of shoreline there were rows of turtles sunning themselves on rocks or logs. We saw eagles and hawks, some sort of water mammal that we couldn't agree on, but sadly, quite a few mosquitoes were massacred along the way.

With only a handful of campsites available, we were well aware that once we were ready to stop paddling, we'd need to fine an unoccupied site. Travelers can't reserve these campsites, its first come first serve. We passed a few sites that were already taken, and quite honestly I was concerned that we'd have trouble finding a site at all.

After several hours of hard work and sun beating down on us, we found a site that was empty. The trouble turned out to be fighting the current with enough strength to actually get to the site! I don't think I can quite describe how tough it was to paddle sideways across the current to a narrow embankment about two feet wide. One person landed as the rest waited for our turn. We had to keep the boat aimed, but waiting to land, fighting the current. The target was very small, finally we paddle madly with the bow of the kayak aimed for a tiny spot of shore and praying that the boat didn't turn backwards and send us flying down the river. Or worse that it helps even less when you lose all muscle control from hysterical laughter. It was a ridiculous site to get to and a ridiculous sight to see, but eventually all four of us were beached and ready for a hefty cup of boxed red wine.

By this point we realized, or at least I did, that I had not slathered myself with nearly enough sunscreen. I am a white woman with blonde hair and sitting on the water for several hours, even with 70-90 spf sunscreen, is a recipe for a painful sunburn. Its now a few days later and I'm still feeling the wrath of Ra.

All said and done, it was a magnificent way to spend the weekend and I couldn't be happier that we went. By Sunday evening I was sore, sun burned, dirty and wiped out... always a sign that a good time was had!

Uncle!

I love Wednesdays. I meet up with Keeler and get my ass kicked in one form or another. We're not swimming, biking or running. We're at the gym lifting, squatting, throwing, balancing, hurling, and usually all at the same time. At this point in the game its hard for me to feel sore in "new" areas. I still feel sore after a great workout, but its always in the spots that I can predict. Not anymore, not with Keeler. I've discovered new muscles with all new kinds of pain. I asked Keeler to "bring it" and she said "oh its brung!"

Bragging Rights

I've started and then stopped several entries as of late. Some of which have grown very long, but I haven't posted them. What's the problem you ask? I'm just bitching about one thing or another. Like the dude that was almost run over by a car. Or the heat. Its been dreadfully hot. My best workouts are super early or during a rain storm and I don't feel like I have any control.  Well, yeah dummy. The only thing we ever have absolute control over is how we react to something (thanks Dali Lama), so shut the @#^%$! up already!

So I guess I want to acknowledge the limits we might face on a daily basis, rather than rolling into another bitch-session. Lord knows that some days are just plain easier than others. Some days I feel like a machine and some days I'm an Oopma Looma. But every day, I am able to...

Yesterday, Pete and I watched the recap of the 2009 Ironman. I've watched these recaps for years. I remember being a kid and watching the Ironman on TV. These people seemed invincible. I didn't know how they got there, but I knew that they were great people. I could not conceive of swimming 2.4 miles, riding 112 miles and then running a full marathon of 26.2 miles, back to back, in one day. Stop for a moment and think about that. You must be able to, beginning at 7am,  complete the 2.4 mile swim in 2 hours 20 minutes. Then no matter when you get on your bike, you must complete the 112 mile course by 5:30pm. And no matter when you finished your swim or how long it took you to ride, you must complete the 26.2 mile run by midnight.

This is the first year that I've watched the Ironman recap after having completed several multi-sport events. It blows me away to see the obstacles that people have overcome to get there. And their reward is the Ironman. From the outside perspective these people are crazy. Why on earth would they put themselves through something so (insert your most extreme adjective here). I think I know why, and it has nothing to do with you or me.

Next to giving birth, I can't think of any activity that (by choice) takes 17 continuous hours of every fiber of your being. I want to point out these details because when I've told people that I've done a triathlon, they assume that I'm talking about an Ironman. I did not. Make no mistake, for those that have completed an Ironman, they say "Ironman" not "triathlon" - with bragging rights.

Would I ever do an Ironman? Someone once asked me that, and I said yes. I thought of it as a challenge. I don't see it that way anymore. I wouldn't want to do an Ironman for that person. I would  do it for myself.

For all the people that I know that have done an Ironman, I am inspired by you.