Training Log Archive: Bash

Lower body strength exercises. Still trying to develop an awesome set of hamstrings to hold my renegade knee in place. I've been resting since finishing our 69-hour adventure race 5 days ago. My knee has been sore on the surface, but not too bad - except for Wednesday, when for some reason it felt so out of alignment and painful that I could barely walk upstairs. The sports chiropractor thinks that if I strengthen my muscles sufficiently, I should be able to hold the knee in alignment enough to be able to run again. I went to my family doc to get started in the medical system, figuring that it can't hurt to do that in parallel to my muscle strengthening strategy. She referred me for an MRI, but the wait is so long that I have decided to pay to get one in Buffalo next week. Before looking at the MRI, the general opinion from several professionals seems to be that I probably don't need surgery. I sure hope not - my family doc warned that I'd need to wait 13 months to see the local orthopaedic surgeon for a first appointment - let alone the surgery, recovery, etc. If it comes to that, it would be less frustrating to give up on athletics and take up knitting or something. Yikes!!!

We had an unfortunate mix-up after reaching the bikes. Bent’s bike had somehow been trashed, but it wasn’t immediately obvious. The chain was off, the tire was flat, and the pack holder (required for his recumbent bike) was damaged. In the confusion of the large group of cyclists leaving at the same time in the dark, he got left behind with no map or bike tools, and it was awhile before it became clear that he really wasn’t just behind us. With temporary repairs, we limped over to the zip line at Chutes Coulonge. Based on the daytime photos, this was an impressive, beautiful, scary zip line over a big gorge, flying across with our bikes beside us. At night, I could hear a waterfall, but had very little sense that a gorge was there. Probably just as well – I simply pretended that I was zipping over my back yard and thus remained completely calm. Too bad, actually, since the scenery looked amazing. Getting out of the gorge was a challenge. We'd been told that we would be pushing our bikes up a steep, rocky embankment in cycling shoes, but realized when we arrived that this was just another way of saying "cliff". It took two people to maneuver Bent's large bike up to flatter ground. The leading team dropped their bike down the slope, but it was caught by a security fence beside the gorge. Yikes!

From there, we biked to the put-in point for whitewater rafting on the Ottawa River. To get onto Grand Calumet Island, we and our bikes had to take a raft across a flat water branch of the river. I started getting serious sleep monsters, so Gazelle and I began an animated conversation about the merits of growing up in Brantford, home of Wayne Gretzky. There was a dark zone on the rafting, so we were able to set up our tent and sleep for 90 minutes. Perfect.

We rafted down the middle channel of the Ottawa River. The water is low and it was actually very easy after canoeing on the Dumoine River. For the 15’ waterfall called Dragon’s Tongue, we pulled to the side and picked up two guides who piloted us down, then jumped out again. Pretty cool!

From there, it was a 90-minute bike to the finish. We poured on the speed and rode in a paceline that Team Discovery Channel would have been proud of. We were only 3 minutes off the fastest bike time for that section, well ahead of some very good teams. Hingo's perfect bike nav played a huge role, as some teams got lost in this section. Nice to finish on a high note!

We were awarded 5th place medals and prizes, although there is some controversy because we were very close to the 6th place team, and there are various time credits and penalties still to be sorted out. Regardless, we were thrilled to do reasonably well. I’d come to the race thinking it would be a huge victory to cross the finish line with my knee injury, and I didn’t feel competitive with other teams at all – only with myself. I guess this shows that anything can happen in an expedition race. I should have tried harder to maintain a sense of urgency throughout the race. I really had no idea that we were remotely in contention for any prize, so hadn’t pushed as hard as usual.

P.S. Congratulations to our friends, the Terranauts, who were hours ahead of us in 4th place. Their captain, Skidder, is on Attackpoint.

We carried on pack rafting to the east end of MacGillivray Lake, where we planned to get on MacGillivray Creek and continue pack rafting if possible. We found the hydro dam and a road leading from it, roughly parallel to the creek. At first I thought it was a portage, but the road kept going. Walking was faster and warmer than pack rafting, and we were going in the right direction, so I didn’t head down to the creek until the road veered onto the wrong bearing after 2 km. By this time, the others were chilled and I was getting worried because Bent was shivering and losing dexterity. Just before sunrise, we were pushing through tall shrubs and weeds coated with tinkling ice. We hit the creek and inflated the rafts, but found that the water was too shallow to get very far. After a few hundred meters, we put them away and planned to walk in or near the creek until it met the Noire River 5-6 km away.

We hit ATV trails and followed them roughly east, keeping the creek in sight as long as we could. Eventually I thought we’d hit a branch of the Noire River, except something didn’t look right. I could see a beaver dam, and the high water seemed to be on the wrong side relative to the direction the current should have been flowing. I headed down to the dam to check. Gazelle seized the opportunity to pull out instant oatmeal and a baggie, which impressed Hingo, who started a conversation - a conversation that may have saved my life!! As they discussed the finer points of instant oatmeal, a Quebecois man came over the hill with his huge crossbow loaded with some evil looking missile. “I thought there was a moose until I heard you talking.” Then he pointed down to the bush where I was moving. “So that is not a moose either?” Having established that indeed none of us were moose, in spite of today being the first day of hunting season, he pointed out our location on the map, which is always handy, and assured us of the existence of the road across the river that we hoped to follow.

We used one pack raft to ferry the team across the Noire River, which we probably wouldn’t have bothered doing if we hadn’t been so chilled earlier. Then we went up and hit the road, following it for a few km until it turned, then we took a bearing straight cross-country. We bushwhacked for several hours, then had a lovely pack raft ride across a scenic, sunny lake with high cliffs. As we approached the next checkpoint, we found more ATV trails heading in our direction. We met two other teams at the checkpoint and realized that we were moving up in the race as a result of this trek. Yahoo!

Most people bushwhacked north and followed a long, circuitous road route from here. I wanted to bushwhack pretty much straight east to the main road, which would be half the distance – and easier on my knee. From talking to people later and looking at the results, apparently this was a good choice. Gazelle, who is an awesomely fit, team-oriented and experienced adventure racer, set a good pace in this section and followed bearings flawlessly. We hit the main road and arrived just after dark at Camp Jim after an epic 41 km, 21-hour trek. We had to wait for awhile, as only the first four teams had made the 3 p.m. cut-off to paddle on the Coulonge River, so the rest of us were being bussed to the take-out point where our bikes awaited. The good news was that we had moved up to 6th place in the race after having the 5th fastest trek! :-))

This gave us some spare time to visit the bar at Camp Jim, where hot beef noodle soup, orange juice and flush toilets made our short stay more luxurious. Hingo was rightfully concerned that we not get too comfortable, since we can be slow getting ready at TAs. We promised to be ready before 9:30 p.m., the scheduled bus departure time, but Hingo played it safe and took a pass on the bar. We started getting our gear ready shortly before he headed off to sleep in the back of FAR’s big rental truck. About 10 minutes later, the race volunteer came running down to say there was a minor medical emergency and he was leaving to pick someone up along the road. We didn’t think anything of it at first, then we saw the big rental truck driving off toward the bumpy access road. Oh no, poor Hingo was sleeping in the back – did the volunteer even know he was there? Three members of another team were in there too, so their remaining team member stood alongside us with jaws dropped as we watched the truck go. It was almost 9:30 p.m. and we were all so worried about our respective teammates that we almost stopped howling with laughter after a minute or two. When the shuttle bus arrived on schedule, we were ready to go – but the truck was still missing. Luckily, the bus waited until all teams had arrived so we could all be moved forward to our bikes at the same time. Phew.

After we realized that we’d crossed the river too early, I altered the bearing to go further downstream. Finally we returned to the river so I could be 100% sure where we were. It’s always hard to find the top of a rappel site, and I didn’t want any uncertainty. We followed the river for awhile – sometimes walking in the water, sometimes pulling ourselves up steep embankments, sometimes slipping on rotten logs and beaver lodges. It paid off as I watched the compass very closely and became convinced that we were nearly at a 90 degree bend in the river. Sure enough, we found the spot – and we could see lights on the cliff where the rappel was located. Woo hoo!

We were still an hour away from the top of the cliff – a long scramble up through an area of large, mossy boulders with leg-eating holes in between. After being at last year’s Primal Quest, I’m very cautious about loose rock, so was glad to reach the top. We found the rappel crew by a fire. Looking embarrassed, the guide said that they’d had “equipment failure” and the rappel had just been closed. We later learned that the ropes had been abraded so badly that an experienced mountaineer on the previous team had cut off one rope, then the other rope was subsequently declared unsafe. Did I mention how fond I am of that previous team?!?

We warmed up and rested by their fire, then had another tangled bushwhack to a road which we followed to the TA, arriving at 9 a.m. Once again, it was frustrating not being able to run on the road, especially since we needed to make up time after the nav error. I can’t imagine how my teammates must have felt, since they actually could have run if they’d wanted to. The good news was that bushwhacking didn’t bother my knee all that much. I put a lot of weight on my ski poles and I could feel the hamstrings and quads holding the knee together nicely.

The next stage was a 90 km mountain bike ride on logging roads in a stunning, hilly area. We didn’t see another human for hours, just lots (and lots) of climbing and descending with beautiful views of hills, valleys and autumn leaves. Gazelle’s altimeter recorded 1500 meters of cumulative elevation gain – wow. At first, my knee felt great and I was riding past the guys up the hills, but the pain began and I started walking parts of some hills to save myself for the trek. Regardless, I loved this section – an absolutely beautiful area with roads in good condition and no traffic. Hingo did a fine job on the nav through the confusing logging road network, with only one unintentional detour that turned out just fine. We arrived just after sunset.

The TA was at a tourist camp and we were hospitably invited to sleep in their warm garden shed (with a big snow shovel hovering over me and Bent's head inside the riding lawn mower exhaust). Since this was our second night and the team had only had a few 5-minute cat naps, we decided to have a good 2-hour rest before starting the 40+ km trek. It made all the difference! We set out on pack rafts shortly before midnight, with bright moonlight illuminating the lake. It was 9 km of paddling to the first checkpoint. We ran aground several times in open water, which was very confusing. We later learned that two lakes had been flooded by Hydro, which turned them into one lake. There is actually a place where you can walk across the lake in water no more than ankle deep! This would have saved us some trouble, but we eventually got into deeper water with light damage to the pack rafts. With two people per raft, but only one paddling at a time, it was easy to get chilled, so we took a long break when we saw that the CP staff had a fire.

Event: Canadian Adventure Racing Championship
 

We piled into a crowded school bus for a very unpleasant, bumpy 4-hour ride to the start line. This is nothing new – almost every adventure race starts the same way, although usually the ride is shorter. Bent and I shared a seat intended for children, along with our backpacks, kayak paddles, PFDs, throw bags and other paddling paraphernalia. The floor of the bus was covered with several layers of unbreakable canoe paddles. Our trip highlight was the unexpected luxury of a Tim Horton’s stop. Yum.

I’d figured that the worst scenario for my knee injury would be a “Lemans Start”, and it turned out that the race began this way. Teams had to run 3-4 km along a dirt road to reach the Dumoine River, where we would pick up canoes for a 40 km river trip. Since our team couldn’t run, we had the discouraging experience of seeing almost everyone disappear out of sight as I hobbled along in my neoprene knee brace. The impact of my foot on the road made my knee hurt. And this was only a road – what was going to happen in the bush? We got on the water a full hour after the race began. The only bright note was that one other team also walked to the river – and yay, we walked faster than they did. ;-)

We spent the next 6 ½ hours paddling part of the Dumoine River, a classic Canadian experience that’s been on my “to do” list forever. For the first time in AR, I paddled in the bow with Bent to avoid the tendonitis that I got from steering in whitewater at Appalachian Extreme. In this race, I was going to need healthy arms on the treks in order to use two ski poles to reduce the load on my knee. The Class I and II whitewater paddle was scenic and fun, and both boats stayed upright (unlike last year’s Charlevoix race, where we dumped 4 times) – yahoo! Hingo took a whitewater course last summer and has become an excellent sternsman. Bent and I chose most of the lines through the rapids, with Hingo and Gazelle following closely behind. I was a liability on the portages, since Bent decreed that I couldn’t lift heavy whitewater boats after wrenching my knee lifting gear boxes. This really slowed us down and made me feel useless, but it was too early in the race to take risks. The second half of the paddle had more flat water and some heavy rain. We arrived at TA1 in rain just as darkness fell, and learned that a black bear and cub were in the area.

The next part of the trek looked fairly straightforward even for night navigation – about 13 km along a river valley, much of it on the marked “Sentier du Dumoine” hiking trail. We didn’t know that the joke was on us – the trail doesn’t really exist anymore. We would find little stretches of it, then it would disappear completely and we would bash along near the river until we found it again. We travelled with another team for awhile and, against my better judgement, we crossed the river earlier than planned. We had been warned that we might need to swim several hundred meters in current, so it was quite tempting to cross the river at this place where the water was only knee-deep. Plus there were some islands and other signs that we had almost arrived at the junction of two rivers that I had planned to use as my attackpoint. BIG MISTAKE. What really bothers me is that if we hadn’t been with another team, I would have stuck to my original plan. Usually I’m better about ignoring outside influence, but I’d really not been looking forward to the river swim, so I guess I was more easily convinced than usual. So off we went into the wrong section of forest, looking for a cliff that wasn't there. Not just any forest, but nasty, slow-moving, tangled forest. Sigh.

Raid The North Canadian Adventure Racing Championship: Bent and I arrived at Esprit Rafting for pre-race check-in. Hingo and Gazelle needed to work today to get time off for the race, so we did the check-in for everyone. This meant a long afternoon of slinging around heavy gear boxes and bikes, plus locating the long list of mandatory gear items required to pass check-in. Each time I lifted one end of our five large gear boxes, my knee throbbed, so my stress and uncertainty about the race continued to grow.

We had a detailed whitewater orientation followed by a chance for teams to paddle whitewater rafts around the bay. Bent and I tried it, but our team would be the only one that would paddle a raft together for the first time during the race. Oh well, it’s not rocket science. After an amazing BBQ dinner at Esprit, the race briefing began. Course designer Bob Miller had done a great job of linking outdoor adventure highlights over a 280 km race course running through western Quebec. It would be a 3.5 hour drive northwest to the starting point.

I planned our trekking routes and left the mountain bike nav to Hingo, which ultimately turned out to be a good division of labour for a 3-day race. It was nice to get a mental break, and also I find that the navigator seldom gets enough time to eat, drink or pee! Because of my knee injury, I knew that running was out of the question. It sometimes makes sense to aim for roads where the route may be longer but we can do some running. Since I couldn’t run in this race, our best bet was to move forward in a relatively straight line. Also, I screwed up our last long race by depending on roads that were incorrectly marked on the map, so this time I was determined to rely on features in the terrain. (I’m SO glad I’ve practiced my orienteering this year!) We had inflatable pack rafts, so it made sense to use them to take the load off my knee while travelling along large bodies of water or crossing rivers. The crux of the race would be a 40 km trek in a remote area with few roads. I hoped that my knee would hold out, since it could be difficult to get rescued if I became unable to walk.

As usual, I got just over 3 hours of sleep on the night before the race. I used to worry when this happened, but I seem to do pretty well with sleep deprivation (this skill is left over from my days in engineering school, I guess), and it’s better to spend more time with the maps up front when I’m conscious and have a place to spread them out.

Off to the RTN Champs in an hour. We're picking up my new foam arch support at the chiropractor's office on the way. If there's time to test it out before the race, it might offer a bit of stability to my knee. My fingers are crossed. After 9 days of leg strength training without running, there is little pain and less feeling of instability. Hingo gave me a good reminder on how to bushwhack: "Always lead off with your good foot." Good point - I'm usually on my right foot (the bad knee) when I'm falling into small pits, slipping on rocks or breaking through a pile of dry branches. Anyway, I shall try to be careful with the knee, keep the canoe right side up in the whitewater, be polite to the bears, stay attached to the rope on the 400' rappel and attempt not to drown during the potential "chest-deep swift-current river crossing".

Hamstring and quad exercises to help my knee. I might be imagining it, but maybe, just maybe, this might possibly be starting to work...!! I don't feel like I could run, but walking is feeling less dicey than it was. Bent's trainer, K/O, has talked with my chiropractor and is working on a targeted strength routine for me to start next week.

Almost packed for the RTN Champs. Still not sure that I should be doing this, but we leave tomorrow evening.

Another gorgeous Algonquin morning! Today Bent and I took out a couple of sit-on-top kayaks, and paddled the shorelines of several bays. The boats are fun, but when you try to paddle hard, there is an annoying "wagging" motion because they are not designed to track - they are designed to be maneuverable. However, it was still fun and a good final paddle before the Champs.

When staying at Arowhon Pines Lodge in Algonquin Park, the best way to start a beautiful morning is to head out on the lake. Bent and I used our AR kayak paddles to power a Grumman aluminum canoe around Little Joe Lake and Joe Lake. We seldom get a chance to paddle together in races, so it was fun to practise our power paddling techniques and watch the shore rush by. There were a lot of canoeists out enjoying the start of the autumn leaves, and almost all of them made some sort of joking comment about our unusual paddles, e.g. "Hey, watch out - you might get booked for speeding" or "Is that sport called canoe-king?" We paddled by the rock where we were married (a wilderness canoe campsite), but a tent was pitched there, so we couldn't visit this time.

Bent and I trekked the Mizzy Lake Trail + some rail trail to get there from our car. The purpose of today's hike was to see if there is any point in starting the RTN Champs, knowing that one of the trekking sections will be 30 km, mostly off-trail.

I pulled out all the stops for injury prevention, wearing a knee brace, using two ski poles, and adjusting my insole to provide lots of arch support. About half of the trek was fairly rugged, with lots of rocks, roots and rolling terrain. It's supposed to be a wildlife observation trail, but I made so much noise on the approach that we only saw one frog and a few birds. When I used the ski poles properly, the knee felt fine. There are a few km of rail trail at the end, and I started using the ski poles to push my speed close to 6 kph. That's when things started to hurt. On a long trek, that would be a really bad idea. It seems that one of the worst things I can do is hit my foot on the ground with a significant impact. Obviously, running is out of the question for now.

It really was beautiful, but we have always run around this trail in the past, and we had no idea it was so long! It was a close call, but luckily we made it back to the lodge in the nick of time to get our corn and mussel chowder, prime rib with fresh-baked Yorkshire pudding (Bent had fish), fancy salad bar, homemade bread and huge dessert buffet. Phew - carb loading was one of the objectives of this weekend, after all.

Minnesing mountain bike trail in Algonquin Park with Bent. We have been doing this fun, rocky, single-track trail annually since the mid-nineties, and have normally pushed hard to achieve a PB each time. We took it easy this year to avoid any (additional) pre-race injuries. I used a Lance-style "low gear, high cadence" technique to be kind to my knee. My Time clipless pedals, which are said to work well with bad knees, act almost like a knee brace, keeping everything aligned properly. (It only hurts when it gets misaligned.) It's going to be painful if I fall off (so I won't) and the hike-a-biking may hurt, although I can put some weight on the bike, like a crutch. Aside from those issues, if I can do this trail, I should be able to handle almost any biking they might throw at us in the RTN Champs. That's a relief.

I put on my neoprene knee brace, which according to one reference is beneficial primarily because it reminds you that you have a bum knee and should be more careful. Bulletdog and I went for a fast, low-impact walk in the woods on and off trail. I tried to imitate the powerwalking that I've seen on TV, although I doubt that I would fool anyone watching.

Today was a test to see if there is any point in attempting to do the treks in the RTN Champs. I made a point of walking across a variety of terrain - rocks, logs, depressions, side hills, piles of branches, downhills, and big waving fronds of... poison ivy? Yikes! Too late! I was so focused on the terrain that I didn't pay enough attention to the vegetation. BulletDog had played in the poison ivy so much that we both had to be subjected to soapy showers immediately upon our return. I enjoyed mine a lot more than she did.

The good news is that I was able to trek on uneven terrain with my knee - for half an hour anyway. It felt like it was held together with paperclips and twine, but if I don't jolt it (which of course I will), it feels OK.

Various hamstring exercises. Apparently, women have far more ACL problems than men, and one of the reasons is that they tend to over-use their quads and under-use their hamstrings. So I am setting out to develop the most fabulous set of hamstrings that anyone has ever seen. All the other girls are going to be jealous.

Lower body strength workout - a desperate attempt to make my knee work.

I went to see Thumbs-of-Death, my sports chiropractor, today. Normally we joke around and he inflicts horrible pain and I leave feeling like I'm ready to run a marathon. Today, after a few minutes of pushing, pulling and pressing, he looked surprised, then got rather serious.

I guess the only good news is that I wasn't imagining things. My knee really IS unstable. Apparently I have stretched my cruciate ligaments. Probably not enough to need surgical repair, but apparently enough to make it painful to run - and even to walk around the house sometimes. He can't do anything specifically for the cruciates, although he can work around the knee joint on nearby muscles, etc. All I can do is work on improving the muscle strength, and hope that I can stabilize the knee that way. I'll also wear a knee brace when possible, and get an orthotic made after the RTN Champs (which I may or may not be able to finish, due to the long treks). He assured me that his own cruciates are worse than mine, but he has to work really hard to keep the muscles conditioned.

The weirdest thing is that I should have noticed the occurrence of an injury of this magnitude, but I have no idea how or when it happened. I just woke up with a sore leg on the 4th day of a kayak trip. If I'm going to be stuck with a stupid knee injury, I would at least like to have a dramatic story, like jumping off the second floor of a burning building with a small child in my arms. Oh well, perhaps it has been a long downhill slide for the knee, and some small thing just pushed it over the edge. Anyway, after having a pretty bad week so far for other reasons, I have plunged into an even darker mood, if that's possible. I've never been a fast runner, but if I can't run at all, that's it for adventure racing, trail running and orienteering. :-(((((

Because of the bad pain in my knee after Sunday's run, I've taken the past two days off completely. At this stage, I just want the injury to repair enough to allow me to trek dozens of kilometers on uneven ground at the RTN Champs. If I can do a bit of running, that will be a bonus, but how much running was I planning to do in a 72-hour race anyway? Tomorrow I'll have to do something aerobic and low impact. I'm tapering, but it's too early to stop completely.

Trail run around Palgrave West with Bent, ThunderDog and BulletDog. Another bee-yoo-tee-full, sunny day in the forest! This was my first time running on my injured knee after three days of biking only. It felt good for half an hour, then steadily got more painful (in the same place that has become painful at times over the years) and felt weirdly unstable (this is new). I noticed that the knee feels like it bends inwards. When it becomes painful, it usually hurts at a specific point on the inside of the joint (medial collateral ligament, I think). I wonder if an orthotic would help.

Other than the stupid knee, it was a great day to be in the woods. I remember a time not that long ago when running felt like a chore - it was exercise because I had to do exercise. It really is fun now. :-)

As planned, after the first hour, I sent Bent and BulletDog out to do a different loop in Palgrave East, while ThunderDog and I returned home. I'm sitting here with an ice pack and hoping to run farther tomorrow.

Paddled with Bent on Island Lake in Orangeville in brilliant sunshine. We had lots of paddling practice last weekend, so the main reason for today's outing was that I really want to keep the callouses on my hands (thus avoiding blisters in our upcoming long race!). It was a great workout in a stiff breeze, and we could both feel the benefits from last weekend's kayak trip.

The bad news is that my knee is absolutely killing me, six hours after our run. I guess it was too soon... Rats. The cardio felt so good. :-(

Great day to log some time in the saddle! Bent and I rode from Forks of the Credit Park to Elora and back again, mostly on the Elora-Cataract Rail Trail. Beautiful rural scenery and small towns along the way. Some leaves have started to change, but mostly we were surrounded by apple-laden trees and fields of colourful autumn blossoms - Black-eyed Susans, Queen Anne's Lace, goldenrod, and lots of Purple Flower Power. (That's for Adventure Girl!)

There is a 2 km break in the rail trail in Fergus with a poorly marked detour that included one fairly busy road. I was surprisingly freaked out by the traffic, undoubtedly a reaction to the tragic cycling accident this week that killed an adventure racer training for the RTN Champs. On our return trip, I took a quieter route and tried to locate as much of the old rail line as possible. Much nicer!

Bent and I lunched at an outdoor patio in Elora, then walked our bikes around town and window shopped. In spite of how close Elora is to Palgrave, we realized that we hadn't been there since the first time we met (on a cycling trip to Elora from Waterloo) in 1988. We hadn't planned it on purpose, but this trip was a nice thing to do on the weekend after our wedding anniversary!

Rode around Albion Hills single track with Crash and Bent. Crash has qualified to move up to the MTB O-Cup Expert category next year, and it really shows in her riding. Wow, that girl flies!

Weather, trail conditions and company were excellent - what a great way to finish the week! We couldn't resist stopping for an apple break - the wild trees are producing amazing quantities of large apples this year.

Stupid me, on one of the technical climbs, I managed to pop the kneecap of my injured knee - OUCH. At first, it felt pretty good and I thought that I'd stumbled onto a miracle chiropractic adjustment. But now I'm sitting with ice on it again, and the pain has moved to a different part of the knee. Tomorrow is another biking day, then I would really like to start running again on Sunday. Two weeks from today, we will be racing in the RTN Champs. By then, my knee has to be functional for trekking on uneven ground, if not for running. Fingers are crossed.

Biked around northeast Caledon - a fun mix of single track, rail trail and some country roads. I tried to keep pushing at a pace somewhere between sprint and expedition race. Although I don't feel like I've kept up with my bike training sufficiently in recent weeks, I actually felt pretty good out there. For those familiar with the area, I rode to Albion Hills, spent an hour doing single track, then rail trail to Centreville Creek Rd. to Finnerty to Innis Lake, then the trail through Glen Haffy (advanced hike-a-bike section in the FAR winter race), then home by gravel roads. My knee felt great at first, then got progressively more sore. Rats. Time for more ice and ibuprofen.

Great wildlife today. A flock of 10 wild turkeys on Duffy's Lane stopped traffic in both directions, just like a school bus. In Albion Hills, 15 wild turkeys lined one of the trails and cheered wildly as I flashed past. (Or at least, that's how I remember it.) A deer ran across a country road, then turned and ran ahead of me briefly.

The vegetation highlights were soccer-ball-sized puffball mushrooms and some delicious wild apples. I nearly suffered a couple of apple-inflicted injuries. In one case, I came around a bend and skidded sideways on ground covered with hundreds of little apples acting like ball bearings. In another case, I was pulling down a tree branch to reach an especially red, plump apple when an even bigger apple landed on my head. Fortunately, the bike helmet did its job. Note to self: During apple season, go biking with tall friends.

After ice and ibuprofen last night, I started the morning with an emergency trip to Thumbs-of-Death to check out my knee. Normally he works around the kneecap, but today he did work at the back of the joint. He suspects that my knee may have spent too much time extended during the kayak trip. :-( It seemed to loosen things up, but I did a lot of walking around downtown Toronto today, and the knee would feel great for awhile, then it would just kill me for a few minutes. Over the next few days, I'll be focusing on biking, but I'm feeling nervous with the RTN Champs so close.

GHO Sprint Night in Churchill Park. It was a fun course, and it felt great to be on an O map again after more than 7 weeks off. To compensate for my bad knee, I maneuvered around some of the more difficult terrain and ran fairly slowly (although my high heart rate indicates that I must have been feeling some race-induced adrenaline). The silver lining on the cloud was that I had more time than usual to look at the map, so felt quite comfortable out there and only made one minor error. (Which could easily have been avoided if I had chosen to follow Griz, who went the correct direction of course, but I like to make my nav decisions independently - even when I'm dead wrong.)

Trail run around Palgrave West with ThunderDog. Yesterday, for no particular reason, I awoke with a stiff, sore knee, and the joint felt misaligned. I'm not sure if it was related to sleeping on granite, or whether I'd unknowingly twisted it during a kayak entry/exit on slippery rock. Anyway, I'd assumed that it would be fine after a day out of the kayak and a night in a real bed. Well, I was wrong. I'm sitting here now with ice on it, and keeping my fingers crossed. Today's run didn't feel good at all - my cardio was fine, but my knee was crunchy and painful. This is really bad timing with the RTN Champs coming up, since I'm supposed to be training a lot this week.

By the way, I set a new record for my time trial loop, i.e. it took me longer to do it than it ever has before.

Better go take some Ibuprofen now. :-(

We were up at 6:30 a.m. because our friends needed to be back in west Caledon by late afternoon. The sunrise was amazing - orange mist swirling over the warm water, with black silhouettes of pine trees behind. I'm not a morning person, but every time I see a sunrise like that, I tell myself that I really should become one. However, it never works because my inner clock is much happier to keep me up late at nights!

We completed our circumnavigation of Philip Edward Island as we passed our campsite from the first night. Then we continued west to the end of Collins Inlet, then turned back into Chikanishing Creek.

Wildlife Report: Beaver, Deer and two fawns.

We made a Dairy Queen stop in Parry Sound, then declared a moratorium on ice cream until after the Raid The North Champs. I'd like to lose a few pounds so there will be less of me for my legs to push uphill on the bike!

Paddled past the SE corner of P.E.I., wove through the islands in the mouth of Beaverstone Bay, then explored the Chickens, an island group just west of the French River delta. After lunch, we were blown along the length of Beaverstone Bay, then we had a tough paddle west down Collins Inlet with the wind in our faces.

There were steep cliffs everywhere, and we were beginning to believe the people who had told us there were no campsites to be found. Eventually we got lucky and found a large rock with several tent sites, but not until we had paddled more than 30 km. It was another awesome night for star gazing, with a little flare of northern lights on the side.

During this trip, I've tried to use my Trayling-trained paddling technique, and it does seem to help. One of our group commented that I never look like I'm working hard, which I guess must mean that my "limp spaghetti arms" are fooling her. That's great! :-) Our group consisted of two strong guys in single kayaks, two women in a fast tandem kayak, and me in my single kayak - so it wouldn't have been surprising if I'd been at the back of the group all the time. However, my lesser strength only came into play when we hit stiff headwinds. Hey Bill - wow, this stuff really works!!

Wildlife watch: Another Bald Eagle and a Caspian Tern. Lots of birds migrating south in long lines at various altitudes.

This was the portion of today's paddling where we had to go a bit harder because of headwinds.

We began our counterclockwise circumnavigation of Philip Edward Island east of Killarney. (Yes, I will be telling everyone that I circumnavigated P.E.I. this weekend.) Our P.E.I. was only about 20 km long by 6 km wide at its widest point. We had an upwind slog for 3 km to get out of Collins Inlet, then the wind worked in our favour for most of the day.

Today was perfect paddling on the outside shore of the island in one of the most beautiful places anywhere - the rugged red rock islands of Georgian Bay. There are thousands of islands ranging from a few centimeters in length to a few kilometers. The most fun way to travel is to pick a rough compass direction and weave your kayak through the labyrinth of passages between the water-sculpted rocks, some of them bare and some of them boasting a few wild trees straight out of a Group of Seven painting. As water levels change and vegetation fills in shallow areas, new islands appear and others disappear, so it's virtually impossible to follow the map too closely. In Deer Island Bay, we found a beautiful campsite with a sunset view and perfect star watching.

Wildlife: Many birds, including two bald eagles and an osprey.

Due to a small craft wind warning with gusts up to 30 knots, our 4-day kayak trip had to be delayed and rerouted. In the meantime, I hiked Chikanishing Creek Trail in Killarney Park with Bent, Gorgeous, Knobless and Yukon Girl. It was an excellent test of the sticky soles on my new Keen water sandals, with lots of scrambling up and down large boulders. The trail has some of the best views of Georgian Bay that I’ve seen without getting in a boat.

Paddled down Chikanishing Creek to Georgian Bay, then headed east along Collins Inlet to stay at a Killarney Park campsite. The idea was to stay in reasonably protected waters until the high winds died down, but we still had an entertaining ride down the inlet with the wind at our backs, surfing on large following waves. It was one of those days when we definitely needed to keep our paddles in the water at all times in order to keep the kayaks upright. Naturally, although the wind had played havoc with our plans all day, it died down sufficiently in the evening to allow the mosquitoes to feast on us after dinner.

I'd planned to do some lower body weights because I'll be spending the next 4 days sitting in a kayak on Georgian Bay. But somehow it always takes longer to pack than I expect. I'll see how creative I can be in figuring out ways to exercise my legs on a kayak trip. Only 3 weeks until our 72-hr race. Have a great holiday weekend, everyone!