Words on the Whey-ah-wichen Whipper (4.0)


Saturday, September 16, 12023 Human Era (HE)


This is a continuation of previous posts. For parts one, two, and three of “Words on the Whey-ah-wichen Whipperclick here (1.0), here (2.0), or here (3.0).


  1. Twisting Around Twin Island
  2. Halfway and Heading Home
  3. Slog of a Log for a Blog
    1. Without Water
      1. Matcha Chew to the Rescue
  4. Insult to Injury
  5. Dead Last, But Better than Expected
  6. More Motivation
    1. Physical Activity Versus Exercise
      1. My PA Practice
      2. Breaking Practice

Twisting Around Twin Island

Now, where were we? Oh, right… turning around the north end of Twin Island.

I tailed her board coming around the corner, but as we made it back into the open water to cross the fjord, I decided to carve my own path.

Halfway and Heading Home

Midway on the crossing, my watch buzzed, signalling the 9-kilometre mark. Halfway, [phew]. Now, I just needed to keep track of the remaining nine kilometres. Though, it was less imperative since I was more familiar with the end section of water. I assumed I would be able to gauge the distance to the finish line easily. With the back half remaining, I steeled myself for the return leg, with the worry of wondering how much wind the warmer weather would bring? As a coastal fjord, Səl̓ilw̓ət is subject to seasonal wind patterns that are driven by thermal temperature (and pressure) gradients. The hotter temperatures meant we would be facing inflow winds coming from the south. The question was how strong they would be?

As we approached the western shore of Səl̓ilw̓ət for the buoy turn, I found my path converging with my slipstream mistress, and again, I drifted into her draft zone.

We were now officially on the southern leg. I settled into a comfortable paddling pace, still conscious of my decision to draft. Despite being under the assumption it was legal, given my chauvinistic cultural indoctrination, I was still wrestling with the ethic and etiquette around drafting. Etiquette-wise, I would be willing to share the workload and take a turn at the lead. It was the ethic that was more of the dilemma.

As I pondered my personal polisci policies pertaining to gender politics, my paddling partner pulled me out of my pondry back into the present. She called something out, but I was not able to make out what she said. My freeloading drafting guilt assumed the worst. Was she calling me out for not taking a lead? I imagined her saying something to the effect of, ‘Are you going to stay on my tail the entire time?’ I begged a pardon. As in, I wanted her to repeat what she said, not that I was begging forgiveness for my free ride. I pulled up to her side to get a better ear and began to ask if she wanted to trade leads. It turned out that she was pausing for a snack and was just warning me that she was stopping.

As I pulled ahead and continued on, bidding her farewell, I was surprised. One, she was stopping to eat. And two, that she had so little water. As far as I could tell, she only had a small water bottle sitting on the deck of her board.

As I paddled on, I could not help but wonder if she would catch up to me later. She had caught me once, so it was plausible that she would catch me again.

Slog of a Log for a Blog

Image source: https://www.thewhipper.ca/media.html

The next section was a slog. Fatigue had set in, and the thrill of the race had long waned. It was survival mode now. I tried to keep focus by anticipating and observing the upcoming obstacles. The first of which was threading between the Lone Rock Lighthouse and Lone Rock Point. Despite my attempts to focus on features, or perhaps as a result of it, a few lapses of concentration nearly cost me a plunge. Thankfully, my balance did not falter beyond needing a paddle slap or draw stroke to right me and my boat.

Next up was the mouth of the bay at Deep Cove. Approaching Deep Cove, there was a steady stream of weekend paddlers out enjoying the delayed dog day of summer. Seemingly, Sirius had already risen, so Virgo was vicariously vying for the very warm temperature title. I thought back to my recent paddle through this section with Billy (who has a great family adventure blog, “Outdoor Family Blog,” that has some excellent accounts on paddling in addition to family-oriented outdoor fun) en route to Thywates Landing from Lowry Waterfront Park, which was a similar length journey, but at a more leisurely pace.

Without Water

It was around this point that I finished my water. At first, I thought it might be a block or bubble, but after a few more pulls, I realized my pack was dry. I chuckled internally at the irony since in my contemplation of how much water to bring I had erred on the side of less since I thought there was no way I would finish it all. It turns out I was wrong and thirstier than I had imagined. On top of that, I was starting to feel some hunger, so it was more the loss of sugar from my solution that spiked my anxiety. However, I was so close to the end that I did not give it too much more thought.

I brought my attention back to observing oncoming obstacles. The point of Cove Cliff was next up. I hugged the shoreline here, heeding the home harbours (i.e., docks), as the light headwinds that had made their presence felt midway across the bay continued to persist. Around the contour of Cove Cliff, Grey Rocks Island came into view. The finish line was approaching.

Matcha Chew to the Rescue

At this point, I decided to pop in my emergency ration. A week before the race I had run into some paddling acquaintances at Jericho. After exchanging our summer adventures we delved into future plans. When I informed them that I would be competing in the upcoming Whipper they offered me a packable power-up. Unfortunately, the name escapes me at this point, despite them giving me all the details (details discovered: Matcha KiK Sport Chews). In any case, I had one packed away in my pocket. Without wanting to waste any time, I popped the whole thing in my mouth, paper wrapper and all, and began to let it dissolve. It is a chew-like candy, with a consistency similar to a Starburst. After a bit, the flavours seeped through the paper and then I just made an effort to keep the paper from flowing down the hatch too. The carb and caffeine cap was welcomed.

Insult to Injury

I barely took note of passing Lowry Waterfront Park. But shortly thereafter, my foreshadowed fear came into effect. I could hear a paddler in pursuit and soon realized it was my snack-stopping slipstream sidekick. She had caught me as I anticipated. I had hoped that I would have an extra gear at the end of the effort to turn up the tempo. Typically I have extra gas in the tank at the end of a race. But not today. I was spent, and after a soft and short stab at speeding up, I simply settled at SUPing steadily as she surpassed me to the stop line. Sadly my shaken ego would be further stomped on by being surpassed by someone who had stopped mid-race to snack but still had the speed to succeed in sending me to their second. I sulked slightly as I SUPed passed the finish line.

Dead Last, But Better than Expected

Despite being bested, both at the finish line and overall, as I managed to come dead last in the 18 km Male – SUP 14′ class, I did succeed in beating my predicted time. I had assumed that I would finish between 2h15m and 2h30m. So I was pleasantly surprised to have crossed the finish line in 2:14:10.9 on the official clock (my watch revealed 2:14:14). But more important than my finishing position was the personal accomplishment of succeeding in a new SUP feat. My first official long-distance race. I discussed the merits and faults of participation and competition both at inter- and intra-personal levels in a past post.

More Motivation

My participation in the Whey-ah-wichen Whipper has fueled my desire for competition. Finishing last has fueled my desire to do better in the future. Previously, my philosophy behind physical health and exercise had shifted from one of competition in my youth to participation in mid-adulthood. The distinction was solidified last summer after reading Daniel Lieberman‘s book Exercised: Why Something We Never Evolved to Do Is Healthy and Rewarding.

Physical Activity Versus Exercise

Reading Lieberman’s book re-highlighted for me just how foreign exercise, i.e., goal-directed physical activity performed for the purpose of improving physical health or capacity, is to animals. Humans are the exception within the biological kingdom Animalia of organisms that perform exercise (with the exception of animals that exercise by way of our persuasion, e.g., dogs, horses, mice, hamsters, etc.). Plenty of animals participate in physical activity, sometimes in the form of play, which would be the closest thing to exercise. However, in my mind, ‘play’ does not constitute exercise. The motivation behind ‘play’ is either pleasure-based or part of a wider evolutionary stable strategy promoting survival. While some humans may derive pleasure from exercise, many do not. Physical activity in the majority of the kingdom Animalia is survival based (and arguably so is exercise for humans as it is a proven way to improve longevity).

My PA Practice

Somewhere in the last year (or so), I came up with the idea that I was not going to ‘exercise.’ That is, I was no longer going to engage in goal-directed physical activity performed for the purpose of improving my physical health or capacity. Truthfully, I had not engaged in exercise for some time already, but more out of a matter of laziness than a clear personal policy pertaining to the practice of physical activity. I still was physically active, but only as a result of play and necessity (e.g., locomotion-based activities like getting from point A to B). I did work to facilitate this process by ensuring that I continued to maintain practices that increased my baseline physical activity levels, like biking to work or taking the stairs over the elevator. So, I suppose I was slightly cheating my own definition by having a goal of being more physically active than a baseline tending toward the current physically inactive cultural environment.

Breaking Practice

However, my personally appraised poor paddling position has me re-evaluating my physical activity practice policy. The pride of my ego seems to think that I should do better. Practically, I know that is only possible through concerted effort, and since that would be a goal-orientated physical activity to improve my fitness capacity, enter exercise. At present, I am aiming to do around six sessions of metabolic training weekly. I am highly curious about what it will do for my fitness capacity in the long run. I know that my physiology is trainable from past experiences, but how much is a curious question.

In 12004 HE I recall reading Gina Kolata‘s book Ultimate Fitness: The Quest for Truth about Health and Exercise and being shocked when I came across the section describing non-responders to exercise. It was the first time I had heard the idea that some people’s fitness levels were essentially fixed and would not alter in response to a training intervention. It was a sharp contrast to the message put forth in my undergraduate education and popular promotion of physical activity, that everyone stood to benefit from health and fitness endeavours. My conspiratorially minded 23-year-old self was apt to believe the hypothesis and play it off as health promotion propaganda hiding the truth to avoid people using non-response to exercise as a convenient excuse not to exercise. I later came across the same contention years later in David Epstein‘s book The Sports Gene: Inside the Science of Extraordinary Athletic Performance bolstering my belief in the phenomenon. Both reads were instrumental in my formulation of an oversimplified mini-heuristic regarding responders and non-responders that I think of as the Rule of Thirds. For any given stimulus, you will have one-third of the population will respond strongly, one-third will be indifferent (i.e., a mediocre response), and one-third will not respond. I realize this is far from accurate, but I think it can serve as a useful heuristic when considering responses to interventions. And it is worth noting that the current view is questioning the veracity of the concept of true non-responders to exercise.

So I am curious how my efforts will play out in the future, both for personal paddling participation, but, more so in interpersonal paddling competition.

Below is my race route recorded in the Garmin Connect app with a Garmin Forerunner 945, the stats summary, and the course map for comparison.

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