|Poet in a kayak|
|Written by Andrew Simpson|
|Monday, 26 March 2012 14:41|
I once watched a documentary about a Mt. Everest expedition in which none of the climbers could speak about their remarkable experiences in anything but the most banal cliches. I remember musing that they should've carried a poet up the mountain with them!
Many high-level athletes lack the time or the energy to share thoughtful insigt about their experiences; which is unfortunate because they're all climbing "Everests" of sorts. There must be an almost meditative quality to the narrowly focused world of full-time high-performance training. Imagine stripping your life down to a singular focus on doing one thing really, really well.
With that in mind I'm sharing this quirky excerpt from Adam van Koeverden's blog. It's small window into his pre-Olympic Florida training and the wonderful sensation of growing stronger. I picture him writing this one night in his seedy Melbourne hotel room blissed-out on a mix of fatigue and endorphins. And I can hardly wait to go to Florida and get a small piece of that feeling for myself!
Excerpt from VanKayak.com: Training has been awesome this week, the salty beast has taken a severe beating from my dual-bladed battle axe. I thrash upon its blue hide repeatedly morning and night, until I am all but completely exhausted. After its morning battering I provide it a short respite while I eat, go to the gym, go swimming or go for a jog. In the afternoon it welcomes more blunt force trauma from my implement. It's difficult to see who is winning. Beating a river brute into daily submission is rewarding, but it is not without it's repercussions. I admit, I am tired. My back and shoulders are sore, my hands ache, and 9 hours of sleep hardly feels adequate. But as I rinse the encrusted salt from my skin after every battle I feel that my muscles are stronger than they were the day before, my blisters have colloused and the skin on my hands is harder. As the onslaught continues I feel that I can administer it a more thorough daily trouncing. I don't know how much the river can take, it has shown few if any signs of weakness, perhaps it's capacity for abuse is boundless. But of one thing I am certain: it isn't getting any tougher, and I am.