Daily practice (kayaking edition)
I’ve discovered the benefits of daily practice. Quite possibly as the last
human being on Earth, I’ve found out that doing something every day makes you
get better at it.
A few weeks ago, I took a course to learn some basics of freestyle kayaking. At
the moment, I’m not really interested in learning how to run more difficult
whitewater sections. Instead, I want to do more fun stuff on the bits of river
where I already feel comfortable. In my case, “fun stuff” means getting my boat
vertical, pirouetting on the stern, sliding along rocks, and jumping over them.
(Short plug: the kayak school, Outdoordirekt is excellent. Great concept, run by a woman, LGBTQ+ friendly. If you’re in or near Germany and want to learn kayaking, or improve your skills, they’re a great choice.)
Now I’m on a two-week camping vacation on the beach, with my family. The kids
are no longer little, and even though there’s four of them, it’s a very chill
affair. For the first time in literal decades, I can actually decide pretty
freely what I want to do with my day. In fairness, the answers I find tend to
include the words “hammock” and “cold beer” quite frequently.
But I brought a little boat along. It’s a Dagger Centrifuge –
something called a “rodeo boat” when it came out in the mid-2000s. It’s longer
than today’s playboats, but its flat front and stern mean that it performs well
beyond just freestyle waves. You can actually paddle this down a river. The
trade-off is that it’s not quite as easy to get vertical, because the ends have
air in them, and therefore like to float.
Most days during this vacation, I’ve been taking the little boat out for
flatwater practice: Freestyle moves that don’t rely on current to push the
boat, only on the paddler’s technique. It’s honestly a bit frustrating: I know,
in theory, how most of this stuff should work. But in practice, getting all the
little details riight turns out to be supremely difficult. For these moves, you
need exact, sub-second timing on where you put your weight, how you rotate your
body, where you put your paddle and where you move it, and how you manage the
boat’s edges. Get any of these factors wrong, and the move won’t work.
Maddeningly, a lot of the details must be executed exactly opposite to what
I’ve been taught as “proper whitewater technique” for a decade.
Despite the occasional frustration, I’ve now gone out on the water almost every
day for a week, and some things are actually starting to work! I’ve learned to
do Lean Cleans – rotating the boat in a flat circle, without using the paddle! This is an
important foundation for other freestyle techniques. My stern squirts are finally
beginning to work, though I have yet to succeed at turning them into a stern
stall (ie. not just getting the bow up in the air, but actually holding the
boat vertical).
Of course, the technique I’m actually improving most is my roll. A lot of
times, the move fails, and I just tip over. But then, a kayaker can never have
too much rolling practice. All those freestyle moves require significant core
strength, especially if you have to compensate for less-than-perfect execution;
so I get a free core workout with my kayak sessions!
My progress isn’t rapid by any means. I keep having to dial back when
practicing a move, focusing on an easier version or a foundational element
first, before trying again to string all the little bits together. I get
frustrated. When I’m tired, I notice that the moves work significantly less
well than at the beginning of the session.
And yet. Every day, something works a little better. The Lean Cleans, a
challenge at the beginning, have become almost effortless. On the stern
squirts, I can now focus on the finer details, instead of just struggling with
the basics. Sometimes I try a new move, and notice the learning curve ahead.
I’m finally realizing that that learning curve is actually the point.
Everyone thinks the goal is to execute the move I want, perfectly, whenever I
want to; hell, I certainly thought so. But it just became clear to me that I’m
out on clear, turquoise water, in a beautiful corner of the world, with people
I love, and without any pressure. I’m doing something that I’m passionate
about, with no conceivable profit motive — exclusively for the fun of it! (OK,
some of the toddlers at the beach think I’m pretty cool.)
Call me silly, but I feel like I’ve just invented the practice of having fun.
