In a week or so the time to sign up for the 2015 running of the MR340 will have arrived. As a past competitor it’s time for me to again contemplate the race and what it means.
When I think of this 10th running of the world’s longest non-stop canoe race I tend to think of the past nine years more than the coming tenth.
I think mostly of the friends I have made because of this race. Some are one time entrants, some have competed since the beginning. But all are special people that have made my life richer by their presence.
I’ve been there and done that. I know what all must endure to achieve success (Ok the success part is a stretch for me). I’m proud to stand shoulder to shoulder with this group and look around and realize I am one of them, I have competed and I belong here.
My problem is while many have accomplished greatness in this circle and even though I have tried, I have achieved only the greatest degree of mediocrity. What, I wonder has separated me from the level of competition my friends have succeeded in reaching? I know it isn’t simple strength. I’ve been beaten by smaller and weaker paddlers (I’ve been whupped by girls too).
I know many have better technique but that can’t make all the difference. I’m not that uncoordinated.
Many are younger but I’ve been whipped soundly by some real geezers as well. It can’t be time on the water, I’ve played on and in this greatest of rivers nearly all my life. I don’t fall for bad advice because I seldom listen anyway. So what I ask, have I done so wrong.
I’ve heard the Texans talk about only eating when they encounter a competitor. But I didn’t really believe them. I’ve heard guys nonchalantly discuss how they stayed awake for 40 hours straight. But I can’t say that’s the truth because while they were supposedly doing this I was napping on a sand bar somewhere.
I don’t have as nice a boat or fancy a paddle as some but I don’t paddle junk either. So I think somehow I’m missing something. Like maybe a secret meeting where witchcraft and spells are involved.
Or maybe the one where a voodoo priest puts a hex on those not buying a magic charm.
I’ve wondered how all the winners do it and I realize its mostly by getting there first. But their secrets continue to elude me So I tried narrowing it to the things I don’t know about.
Like space aliens. I don’t know a lot about space aliens so maybe that’s my problem.
Is it possible I ask myself, do Chuck and Di really live in the Ozarks as they claim, or are they from “Out there?” Is Wally really from Illinois? Is Illinois the name of his mother ship? Are those pesky Texans from south of Oklahoma or north of the moon? And the list goes on and on. Are there really two Anderson brothers or is one a clone? Does Carter really have a time machine hidden below his deck? I didn’t even know one of those would fit in there.
The list of paddlers who achieve near legendary status on my river is growing by the year and here I sit near the back of the pack not losing much ground but never winning, just whining.
Katie and Robyn both have the ability make me look like one of those geezers (but not the fast ones).
Am I surrounded by more advanced life forms? That is an unsettling thought.
Sure I know these guys and ladies aren’t really supermen/women. I saw West fail to finish once but
suspiciously it was a year when I didn’t compete. And I’ve always thought that for that to happen either gunfire or a freeze beam had to be involved. But I wasn’t there! I didn’t see it. Scotty might have just beamed him up by accident. I just don’t know.
I have a suspicion Shane would still beat me if he had a rocking chair on that paddleboard. Bryan and Joe teamed up to beat me but even so I’m pretty sure the guy in the stern napped a lot.
So many great paddlers compete, so many good paddlers have become great. So I’m breaking my own tradition and asking for advice. Does anyone know a reputable voodooer?
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