I’m Kinda Tired.

Early evening glass on Watts Bar
…I think I’ll go home now.

In the famous words of Forrest Gump, that’s how I felt towards the end of this weekend’s paddlestravaganza…which really began Thursday with snow play, into Friday with a long(ish, for me) run.  We went out Saturday on Watts Bar for an hour of interval work and I did.  Not.  Want.  To.  Go.  It was 38 degrees at the warmest part of the day, and I gently suggested to Hal that maybe we should do yoga.  I give him credit for pushing us to do the workout anyway, but boy was I miserable to start.  But you know what – that misery really only lasts the first approximately 4 minutes until you warm up, then it’s tolerable, extra caution to not fall in notwithstanding.  We felt smug about our interval work and opted for a long paddle as planned on Sunday, going all the way back to White’s Creek in some gorgeous sunshine and 55 degree “heat”.  I had a brief exchange with a fisherman – I waved, he waved.  “Cold?!” he asked.  “Only if I fall in” I replied.  We went around the island to spook several hunderd seagulls into the air (no poop, thankfully) and endured some chop coming back over to paddle home.  With about 2 miles to home, I had to make a woodland pit stop (maybe the egg salad for lunch was a poor choice?), and at that point wanted to crawl home versus getting back on my board, but soldiered on.  All in all I logged 9.3 miles that day, but at the end?  Kinda done.  Kinda sore today.  BUT.  That’s where the magic happens, right???

Hal heading towards the Creek

Hal heading towards the Creek

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