The Gift That Keeps On Giving: The Knowledge

I think the most valuable lesson that I have learnt and lived, is that it is impossible to know what you can do until you've tried to do it, either succeeding, or failing and learning from it. When I started out at Viking Kayak Club in the early 90s, I truly, and naively, believed that it was just a matter of time and some training before I would be a multiple Olympic and World Champion! Looking back at my young self, I think all I would have seen was naked ambition and probably a willingness to work hard. In the end, I got to become an Olympic champion just once, but I now know the true efforts required. When I dislocated my shoulder six months before the 2011 Worlds I thought that there was a chance to go on from there, and not only go to the Olympics, but win them! Looking back now, what would I have seen? Someone with an almost impossible task ahead of them, but with a plan in his back pocket. Amazingly, I went on to win the Olympics with a reconstructed shoulder, so it was clearly possible, but it probably wasn't realistic. At the 2015 Worlds, when I tore a muscle in my side a few days before racing started, I thought that it would be an impossible and pointless exercise to race. From here, I see a guy who was terrified of failing to rise to the challenge, when he knew he was expected to, and knew that if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to look at himself in the same way again. But I went on to race and we came 6th. I know that I considered something like that to be impossible at the time, yet it happened.

From all these experiences, I shamelessly extrapolate upwards and outwards, beyond myself and to people in general. It isn't hard at all to find examples of people doing things that are deemed extraordinary in some way or another, normally because something about the person involved doesn't quite match the size of their accomplishment. Often, we would perceive these people as normal, or maybe even disadvantaged in some ways. Their achievement is out of proportion to this perceived starting point. I so fundamentally believe that we are all capable of more than we credit ourselves with that it fills me with a faith and a buzz for the future that I can scarcely contain!

I also learned that no matter what we start out with, it is our desire and action towards building on that quantity which I believe is the determinant to success. Put another way, it is less important how big or small we feel our pile of any given quality is; it is what we choose to do to add to that pile that gives us a unique power. I do not believe that I had any real talent for canoeing. I'd go so far as to say that I was clumsy, uncoordinated and un-athletic. I got flustered and frustrated, I didn't know my left from my right and I was a poor team player. It seems outrageous to me that I became an Olympic champion in a technical, physically demanding team sport!!! (And I still get frustrated and flustered.)

I have realised that my journey in elite canoe slalom has in fact been a journey in self-understanding, and if I am being really brave, a journey in self-acceptance. People tell me that understanding and acceptance is a never-ending journey, but I am further along the way than I could be. I have been privileged to have been supported to look into the darkest areas of myself, the areas that I feel ashamed of and scared to look into, for fear of discovering a worrying truth. I believe competing under pressure, and working day-to-day in an intense competitive environment have driven me to learn about my flaws, my cracks. These cracks were exposed and widened when I was trying to do something that I wasn't sure if I could do. This pressure, coming from myself and how I saw the world, consistently and repeatedly revealed my weaknesses, so that I could get to see them clearly. Once I could see them clearly, I could try to understand them and from there either work with them, or try to get change them.

I am grateful for this, because I think I might have been able to conveniently skirt around them doing something else. For me, learning skills, ideas and strategies that I can use in situation where I feel the pressure has been so useful, and it has been rewarding. But learning that I can learn skills to compensate for, or even change, areas where I feel I want to be better has been even more useful and rewarding. I also believe that anyone can do this if they want to go through the process of understanding their 'weaknesses', which can be difficult and challenging. Because I don't think I had huge amounts going for me when I set out on this journey, and I managed to learn these things, why can't anyone else? Again, that fills me with a great buzz, because what if we were all a bit better at dealing with pressure, however that squeezes us? Perhaps things would be calmer, more gentle and more productive.

It might seem an odd thing to say, but one of the most important things that I have learned is that I have learned to be me. Certainly, being in a competitive environment can be quite intense and I am certain that I have had to wear some parts of myself more outwardly than others (some people call it a 'front', or an 'armour'). But over the years, as I have learned about myself, I feel that two things have happened: first, I have come to see competition as less threatening than before. It didn't have to be as personal as I imagine, it's just that sometimes others want what I want. In that case, you might not need as much armour; second, I realised that being me wasn't that bad, there are lots of people who are a bit strange out there. Everyone is probably spending some effort on being normal when in fact if we could just de-escalate that situation a bit, things would be easier all round. A bit like when the US and the USSR decided to get rid of an equal amount of nuclear weapons - it didn't really effect the status quo, it just took less effort on their parts to maintain this arsenal.

As I have been able to save some energy by not having to choose and maintain what I thought was the right me in some situations, I have been able to use that energy to do things that I wanted to do. Like getting better at canoeing, or being a better teammate, or making jokes. I don't want to pretend that I have been 100% me all the time in the past and I know it wouldn't be sensible to suggest that I will be able to do this all the time in the future, but I now the benefits of trying. So I am going to try.

The above ideas are probably the biggest and most important things that I have found out so far. Canoeing gave me them, or more accurately, they were revealed to be by the practise of canoeing and racing. That buzz, that knowledge, is a gift that I hope to draw on for all my days. And they are things that I hope people might enjoy reading about, or gain something by thinking about them in relation to themselves. I believe that we all have to struggle to unearth and refine our own truths. But I am hoping that someone, somewhere might get a bit of a leg up to figuring out something about themselves by reading this.

Q and A, or A and Q?

It's a tricky task to answer a question before it's asked, but that's what this blog article will endeavour to do. The question in question is, "Why aren't Mark and Etienne racing the World Cups?". The short answer is that I will be visiting my wife, Georgie, in Nicaragua whilst they are happening. This means that I will be able to continue training at a good level through the rest of the season and fulfil our duties as the Olympic reserve crew. The slightly longer explanation is below:

Throughout March I had really been struggling in training, really struggling. Try as I might I could not find a way to bring the best of myself to our crew. I seemed to lack the critical amount of energy needed to allow me to focus all my effort on my contribution to our team. The consequence of this was that I was not a very good teammate. Short on patience, short on ideas, short of soundness. Our paddling was pretty bad and canoeing wasn't much fun. As well as being generally not very good, I was angry with myself about my behaviour and this was hurting me twice. Of course, Mark bore the brunt of it, and I knew that this dynamic was unsustainable for me and the crew. I can say that I was close to retiring there and then.

Try as I might, I could not find a way to sort myself out. I worked on lots of different ideas and tried lots of methods to get myself back to a place where I could be motivated to put all I could into the crew. None of it seemed to work. Then, one night as I lay awake thinking about this mess, I realised that I had a possible solution, and with it, I came to understand the problem. If I knew that I could take a break in the middle of the season, I thought that it would give me two clear phases to work on. The first phase would consist of the final preparations for the season, and would be focused on the European Championships. The second phase would be focused on training in C2 in London to contribute to the Olympic team's preparations by being a credible and swift crew to spar with. I think the problem was that being away from my wife for such a long time was harder than I thought, and this was coupled in with a season of very uncertain shape and demands.

I spoke to Mark and asked him if he would approve of the plan. Thankfully, he could see where I was coming from and could see the gain in it, even though there would be some costs. Missing the World Cups would be a shame, it means losing the chance to spend more time with my friends and teammates and race in some cool places. But the more I thought of the plan the better I felt. I believe the certainty and structure that it gave me was vital. I was suddenly energised and I found myself able to focus completely on producing a good performance at the Euros. I could also picture how we could train sustainably through the summer and be able to test David & Richard in training during the Rio buildup.

Thankfully, our European Championships campaign was a success (read about it here) and I have been putting my best work into our training. I wish I could be in two places at once, but it is impossible and I am at peace with the choice. I will be away for the three-week duration of the World Cup tour (I hope I can find a decent internet connection to keep an eye on the races), but when I return I will be back down to business. Season 2016 was always going to be a challenge, and it is certainly proving so. But now, thanks to this decision and the support of my team, I feel that we are doing a good job of it, and I intend for that to continue! Thanks for reading.

The 2016 European Championships: a race to be remembered

Where do you start when you want to write about a race like the 2016 European Championships? It is a big deal, the second most important race of the canoe slalom year, apart from the Olympics. But it was more than that. Olympic dreams were realised and shattered. There were underdogs succeeding, big names defeated and new sparks emerging. A large community of C2 athletes raced against each other, possibly for the last time before C2 is dropped from the Olympic programme with probable consequence that most athletes will be 'made redundant' and head to retirement. And Mark and I did our race amongst all this, making our third major international final and finishing in 8th. I will try to paint a small picture of some of the human dramas that occurred, starting with our own.

A proud & happy man at the opening!

For Mark and I, the Euros was our main focus for the season, our one chosen chance to race at our absolute best. We'd done almost three weeks of training in Liptovsky before the race started to develop our technical understanding of the river. We tapered our training to deliver a physiological peak and we worked hard to make sure that our mindset was optimal for the delivery of our best. The course is Liptovsky is fast, narrow and unpredictable, with a tough drop in the middle section that can unravel a run in moments. The courses set for the race were extremely fiddly. Not hard in a 'do or die' sort of way, but in a way that if you took your eye off a gate for just a moment, the water could push you onto a pole for a penalty so easily. It made it hard to get a groove going as you were always looking at the gate and water immediately in front of you, it was difficult to work too far ahead.

In the qualifying round, we came 13th, which was ok. When we arrived to start preparation for the semi-final, we could see that the gates were set quite unforgivingly, and we would have to prepare our tactics very carefully. We watched a lot of C1s and K1s, trying to understand how the water was acting on them, and then inferring how it would affect a heavy, wide and long C2. Our 3rd place in the semi justified many of our choices. For example, we took a late choice (that we had discussed, in advance, the possibility of having to make) just before gate 23 to do a 'peel out', one of the most conservative manoeuvres in the book. By that stage we were out of position, and we had little choice, but it kept us clean and didn't cost too much time. I was elated to make the final - once you're in the final anything can happen!

Skipping through the drop

In the final we had made some revisions to our plan and we were on a good run, until we got out of place in the bottom third. We hit gate 17 and lost time. We were then forced into another peel out at 23, but this time it was too slow, and we lost a bit more. We crossed the line and I knew that we hadn't improved on our semi. But afterwards, watching the video with our coach, Gareth, I was struck by how much we'd put into that run. I often can't really remember what happens in the action, or at least I can't evaluate it. I think my mind is full of the doing (or maybe it is empty with the doing?). But what I saw was two guys doing everything they could to get the boat down the river, adjusting a they went, but charging hard. We nailed a few bits for sure and we hustled a few other sections. I don't know if I could call the time losses 'mistakes'. They were really tough moves and I'd think that we'd need a few more goes at them in training to figure out a consistent, solid solution. I think those time losses occurred towards the upper edge of our technical limit, and we'd done our best to deliver them in the heat of the action - I can't be angry with that. I believe I can say that we put our absolute best into that final run, 8th was the result, but the thrill of giving all that we could give was what was special. I am proud of us, what we did and the way we did it: it was a good day.

Cheerful C1M podium

Kucera/Batik taking air!

As for the dramas, here I go! The GB womens' C1 and K1 team Golds. Hearing the National Anthem and seeing people you know on that top step is always brilliant! ; Alexander Slavkovsky's win in C1M, a huge result for Slovakia's '3rd boat', a real nice guy who has dealt with 'living in the shadow of Martikan' with real grace ; Ander Elosgui (SPA) claiming the final C1 Olympic quota spot in style with an individual Bronze ; Kucera/Batik, again Slovakia's 3rd boat, racing knowing their funding was to be cut after the Euros, winning a major championship after many years on the scene ; Schroeder/Bettge, making their first international final and taking the Bronze ; The Skantar cousins, claiming the Slovak Olympic place ahead of the legendary and illustrious Hochschorner twins. What a journey they have been on! ; Vavra Hradilek, finishing second in K1M by 0.01sec., just a short while after his rival Jiri Prskavec (the eventual European Champion) had secured Czech's Rio place. Both paddlers racing in a style that could only be described as free and wild! ; Mallory Franklin's Bronze in C1W, with Eilidh Gibson crafting a 4th place ; Jana Dukatova just grasping the Slovak Olympic place, taking Bronze ahead of the great Elena Kaliska (4th); and that one to watch, Felix Oschmautz (AUT), who revealed his talent to the world, aged 16, by making the K1M final in 6th place.

And the heartbreaks: Martina Wegman (HOL) flipping in gate 23 when she was on the run of a lifetime, with 8 fingers and one thumb on her ticket to Rio with the last Olympic quota place. My heart sank like I have rarely felt when I saw that happen right in front of me ; Marzo/Perez (SPA) who failed to qualify in C2 in pursuit of the final Olympic quota place, despite having won the Tatra Cup a few weeks before, on the same water and against most of the same crews. They are such a good crew, but road to the Games was unforgiving that day ; Kim Woods, who didn't get through to the semis in defence of her 2015 European title, but who in the following days showed character and flair to find some redemption by racing to two Golds in C1 and K1 team; and Joe Clarke, getting a 50 in the final after a dazzling charge in the semi.

Great Britain's K1W Team at the top of the pile!!

Some of those moments, good and bad, will live in canoe slalom history! But what did you expect? Most of the world's best slalom athletes in the same place, racing to prove their Olympic worthiness or to gain selection, some to prove that even though they weren't going that they were still a force to be reckoned with and some just going out there to do what they have trained all their lives for. Drama was 100%, gold plated guaranteed!!! I was glad to be there and glad to be a part of it!!

Thanks to Michaela Daille for the photos :-)

The Original Slalom Experience

I have been meaning to write this blog for a few weeks, since our trip to Scotland to race in Grandtully, Perthshire. The first time I went there was in 1995, to contest GB Junior Team selection. Over the 21 years since then, I think I have raced there in at least 12 of them, and although it might be argued that the river is no longer at the cutting edge of slalom, it is one of my favourite places to race in the whole world. In fact, when our schedule worked out such that we could make the trip this year, I was really happy. I just knew it would be cool. So I decided to try and share with you why I like it so much. I think in many ways, it epitomises some of the reasons that I love canoe slalom. So here goes, in no particular order:

Fine examples of weather-beating equipment.

The road trip - it was always a long way, but up from Lee Valley, it is as good as an eight hour drive. Nowadays we fly to many race venues, and although there's no doubt you cover a lot of distance, you rarely get the feeling that you've really travelled. Sure, they might speak another language and the food is different, but it just doesn't feel like you've gone anywhere. To me, when you drive, you have seen every meter of that journey and you appreciate it all the more for it. Plus, you get to discuss pretty well everything with your car-mates and listen to all sorts of music too. An added bonus is stopping off at one of a few premium service stations on the way (eg. Tebay, on the M6). Over the years, some of these have come to signify progress and deliver some tasty treats!

The weather - Needless to say, Scotland has famously unpredictable weather. Canoe slalom is an outdoor sport, and so when you do canoe slalom you will be subject to this weather. Howling wind, driving rain, sleet and snow are perfect to test your waterproof gear. Then the beaming sunshine and flat-calm times give you the chance to appreciate your sunglasses. Sure, it's not brilliant racing in bad conditions, but I can't say that I don't relish battling the elements sometimes. I think canoeing has taught me to like bad weather, it feels like I've learnt to earn my enjoyment!

Not really a puddle, more a small muddy river.

The mud - in the racing season, I paddle without shoes. It give me the chance to squish through any muddy puddles that are on the walk up to the startline. Some puddles are more muddy water, some puddles are more damp mud. Either way, I do like just being able to just trudge wherever I fancy without worrying about having to clean my shoes! Grandtully does seem to have puddles that cover the total watery/muddy spectrum, and this year was no exception. Sometimes, I do wear sandals, but there is also a bit of a thrill from filling your sandals with mud too!

Getting back indoors - after a day outside in the wild weather, getting back home to a warm and dry haven seems like a wonderful thing. Having sorted your gear out to dry, sitting down on the sofa and watching some TV with a warm mellowness seems just about spot on (thanks to Steven Turnbull for setting us up with the perfect place this time around).

The countryside - not all that many canoe races are done in the countryside anymore, that's just the way the sport has headed. I don't think that's a bad thing, but when I get the chance to be somewhere just a bit out of the way to do a race, I really appreciate it. There's very often a quietness down at the course before it kicks off which is not found everywhere. You look around and there are trees, big trees that were just saplings when canoe slalom was discovered (!). There's hills or mountains that seem to ask me to go up them, or see what is behind them. I don't always get the chance to explore, but the idea that I could just get out and become some part of a natural scene rings nicely in my mind.

The people - we're all watching canoeing together. Some are engrossed, some are slightly bored, others are nervous, some are hardly watching; just making jokes and having a laugh with their chums. When it's raining, we talk about the weather, when it's nice, we talk about canoeing. People I've known for decades, some I'm meeting for the first time. Slalom is cool, there just aren't many baduns around, and so to me it is like old friends or family: it doesn't have to be deep and meaningful necessarily, it's just good to chat with people who you share something with.

The cake - when I was a kid, my mum used to make me some special cake for races. And I am still partial to a piece or two. Having a slice of home-made chocolate cake or a piece of flapjack from the cafe keeps up the tradition, and I can count it as energy for my racing, so it's a win all round!

The racing - a domestic slalom is a fair way from a major international, but it is fundamentally the same thing. You're trying to go as fast as you can (with respect for precision) down a course set out by hanging gates. In Grandtully, some of the gates are so far away that you can't really tell exactly where they are! Plus it's a river that can change a bit and I don't paddle there loads. So when you set off, you are a good deal less certain of what lies ahead than at some races. That's an interesting something extra, which I quite enjoy.

A fine river on a fine afternoon :-)

Now I don't know if people will agree with me, but these things just contribute to the love I have for canoe slalom, and a lot of them I would think I'd share with other slalomists and the wider canoeing population. It's been nice to think about this enough for me to be able to write about it, and I'll have to keep my eyes open for any other elements that I missed on this occasion. Bye for now!

The Rio Hangover

It's been just about 4 months since Olympic Selection back in late October. That's one-third of a year. In the weeks after Olympic selection, it's fair to say things stung a bit. It's a black and white business: you're going, or you're staying. For us, the process had been very turbulent and intense. This blog is about the period since, and how my thinking has changed during it. It seems like a good time to write it, because my thoughts are a bit clearer, as the time is approaching that other countries will be having their Olympic trials soon (although places like New Zealand and Australia have just wrapped theirs up) and there will doubtless be some new hangovers that need seeing off, so it might be interesting for other people too.

Eye to eye with an ancient relative.

Up close to a beautiful and massive turtle.

In my previous blog, I wrote about my plan, and I duly got on with it. First things first, a holiday to Indonesia. I was away for nearly six weeks, but when I returned, I felt like I'd been away a year. It was absolutely amazing! I helped the Great Britain Mens Rafting Team to 7th at their Worlds, which I was very satisfied about. I saw wild orangutans in the jungles of Borneo and I saw beautiful underwater worlds around some of the zillion islands that make up the country. I ate delicious meals that cost £1.50 and snacked on the cheapest (8p!) and tastiest chocolate bars that I've ever had: the mighty Beng Beng! I spent lots of time with my wife and shared a few blog-worthy experiences with her! When I came back all I could think about was how lucky we are in the UK to live a life of comfort, plenty and choice. Some of these things are built upon the efforts of people who themselves have a lot less of all three, and some of these things use up precious resources in a way that damages our planet. I also thought a lot about how the people I met over there seemed to want the same things as what we want here: just to live a good life in peace. It certainly opened my eyes and if I'm honest, I didn't think about canoeing that much whilst I was out there.

Kim Woods @ Wadi Adventure

Looking out over a lot of fun!

Once I'd gotten back to good old Britain (winter cold and darkness), Mark and I started training for the season. Thankfully, my modest suffering was short lived, as we all shipped out to the UAE to train at the Wadi Adventure facility in Al Ain. It was a great place to train and we worked hard to get back into the groove. It is a nice river, fast and pushy, and it was great to be back among my teammates. For example, on one of our days off, all the athletes went to a water park for the day, where we went a bit daft having tonnes of goes on all the best slides. It was one of the most fun days I have had on the team, and it really warmed my heart and filled my fun tanks up. But being back in training did reveal something: That without 'the Rio thing', I felt a bit mushy and somewhat hollow. Don't get me wrong, canoeing was still fun, but without the hard stick and the juicy carrot, the sharp focus and energy to drive through anything just wasn't there. I felt like I was going through the motions a bit. And I didn't like it.

Since being back, I decided that this wasn't to continue. It was not the best use of my time and energy, and also it had a negative impact on Mark, but furthermore, it was not the sort of athlete or person that I wanted to be. This year is filled with uncertainty and many opportunities to gaze at things that I don't have (eg. The Olympics). But I decided to choose my focus and attempt to gently guide my thoughts towards the things that I have right now and the things that I am certain about. My new task: to try and enjoy canoeing just for the sake of it; and to learn to train hard and make progress, not focussed on what I can get out of it in the future, but for what I can get out of it now (the future will hopefully take care of itself). I am going to enjoy my friendships in the team and try to contribute to its progress. To that end, Mark and I decided that we would try and train with David and Richard more often than in the past, in the hope of keeping them sharp and possibly pushing them higher. I am certain that I love canoeing and so that is what I am going to do.

Now this is proving to be a good challenge. Old habits die hard, and I have found myself dipping into the vats of frustration that my brain can create for me, and that canoe slalom is easily able to keep topped up. I have found myself blunting the joy of canoeing with very strict and inflexible ideas about what progress looks like, and how it is achieved. I have also sometimes allowed rivalry too big a share of my headspace. But, I can also say that when I have been successful, I have noticed the super fun and exciting things that very often I skipped over, in favour of solving some of the 'bad' things (I use the word 'bad', when in fact I should say "areas that aren't as good as I want them to be, but that I'm going to work on and learn about", although that doesn't roll off the tongue!). We have learnt some really interesting new boat handling tricks, and we have been moving the boat really nicely on the water. And I reckon we have been pretty fast at times too! But the main thing is that I am adjusting the balance of my approach to canoeing, and it seems to work both in terms of enjoyment and progression of my abilities.

A well known hangover cure is 'the hair of the dog', and although it's not something I've been into in the past, I will also get to try this technique in a few weeks. Early in March, the Olympic reserve team will do a two week camp in Rio alongside the Olympic team, just in case any of us are ever called into the action. I have heard lots about Rio already, but it will be a fun adventure and a chance to paddle another Olympic course, even if it will not be part of the big show. I suspect that it will create some mixed feelings, but it will be another chance for me to test myself out and to stick to my plan. I will want to savour the chance to go somewhere new with my friends, and enjoy my paddling when I get there. I'll let you know how I get on!

2016: The Plan

Well, nothing too heavy for this blog, just an update about where I am and where I'm headed now that the dust is settling after the 2015 season. We've been through our review and planning process with the management team and once that's done, we know where we stand with respect to the programme, and the programme knows what we're intending to do. There is a limbo period between the end of races and the reviews, especially if things haven't gone as planned, but fortunately 2015 was a good year, even though we fell short of our dream goal of getting to Rio. So here's the plan:

First things first, I'm off on holidays! I am leaving to Indonesia for a 5 week trip, returning to the UK early in 2016. For the first part of the holiday, I'm going to be in Java, coaching the Great Britain Men's Raft Team at the Rafting World Championships. This will probably strike a lot of people as a 'busman's holiday', but I have a good reason to be by the river on my holidays! My wife, Georgie, is in the GB women's team, so she will be out there anyway, and I thought that hanging around watching wouldn't be as interesting as getting involved and helping a bit, as well as being on holidays with my wife. After that, we will hop across to Bali for a while, and then hopefully we will go on to Borneo island and see what we can see there. It's a long holiday, but I think I earned it, need it and now is the right time. I am looking forward to a good adventure and to seeing something quite different - it should be fun!!

Once I return, Mark and I will get back to C2 training to prepare for the 2016 season. Our main aim will be the European Championships in Liptovsky (Slovakia). We have been offered a place on a two week training camp to Dubai in the back half of January, which should be just what I imagine my doctor might recommend to get my carcass back into the C2 groove (although I should say I am intending to do lots of activities and running on holidays, so I won't need a cargo plane to get me home)! After that we will be getting stuck in on Lee Valley for a while. A huge perk of being Olympic reserve is that we get to go on a camp to the new course in Rio, so we know the place should we get called up. I don't know what to expect of either Dubai or Rio, they'll be new to me and it will be a great to see something new!

After the Rio camp, there'll be a few weeks of home preparation time, with an odd trip to Liptovsky to get our eye in for the biggest race of the year. Liptovsky is a cool place, home of the Great Martikan, and I haven't been there since 2007. It's hard to know what to expect of the Euros this year. For some, it is a desperate last chance saloon to qualify for the Games, and for others it is the major focus of the season and for others it is just a race on the way to bigger things. I just know that I am looking forward to it, and as ever, my focus will just be to do my best and see what happens...

A few weeks later, the first block of World Cups starts. Three back-to-back weekends of racing should be fun, with the first race in Ivrea being another site that I've never been to. After these races, we will just have sit tight and see if we get called up, and after that who knows? That's all for another day.

All in all, I am very happy with my plan. I can say that it is pretty awesome to have so many opportunities despite missing 'The Big One'. I think it is natural to be sore for quite a while after 'failing' to get what you want (read why I don't think it is really a failure in my previous blog), but the combination of holidays, training camps, races and getting to be on the road with my teammates I think will do the trick. I love training, travelling and racing, so 2016 will be a winner! Bye for now :-)

Letting Go of Rio

I've been finding myself daydreaming about the Rio Olympics. What it would be like to go and pick up my Team GB tracksuit, getting all briefings about what you need to know. Imagining the training plans we'd make and the technical tricks we would refine. Wondering what it would be like to walk into the Olympic Stadium on a warm Brazilian evening. Imagining the thrill of ripping a run down the river on the biggest day and on the biggest stage. Thinking about how utterly insane it would be to defend the title I won with Tim in 2012.

But then I remember that it can't happen. We didn't make the Olympic boat spot at the Olympic Trials the weekend just passed. Although we will be named as the official reserve boat when the team is announced, I would consider it to be highly unlikely (and very sad for the people concerned) that for some reason we would be substituted in further down the line. So it's all just daydreaming and probably only ever will be. I'm going to have to let go of this.

Blazing into the finish. Thanks to Neil Proctor.

The Olympic Trials were as tough as I expected them to be. We recognised that we had a mountain to climb and conditions weren't especially favourable. But we decided as a crew that we wanted to race at the top of our ability regardless of the chances of success. We wanted to express all that we were and all that we had gained in the last year as a crew. We wanted to be free of ideas about what could be, or what should have been, and just be completely and utterly free to race. We had six runs over the weekend, and although our 'Road to Rio' could be ended after any one of them, we wanted to race each one for the joy and to see what we could do. That was pretty inspiring.

In the end, David and Richard's first run of the first race was enough to seal their place. Our second run charge to try and overhaul them was probably one of the finest technical runs of my life - for the first 80 or so seconds! It was lovely, we were skipping, sliding and running all the features and currents. Then, coming into the bottom drop, we got a bit wayward, spinning out before an upstream gate. We lost 1.7 seconds there and then, and we lost a little more in the final spin move, but that was what cost us the race and the chance to take it through to the next day. Of course, we would have then had to win Sunday and Monday to guarantee our nomination, but that is another daydream entirely!

Getting into the last upstream gate on the last day. Thanks to Alex Irwin.

We then fought a tooth and nail battle with Rhys Davies and Matt Lister over the next few days, both crews vying to be named as reserves. Frankly, they mostly had the better of it, their pace was a bit stronger and on Saturday we picked up a crucial penalty. On the final day, we were left needing to win and Matt and Rhys tied their colours to the mast on the first run. Our last run of the weekend was by no means beautiful (I cannot recall much, but I do remember rarely being where I'd hoped I would be), but it was effective. We were just going as fast as we could, and a bit of control was sacrificed. It wasn't deliberate, but it gave us a fast time enough time to absorb a touch and take the win. I was gutted for Matt and Rhys, they are really nice guys and I considered it to have been a good contest, both crews battled to the end, with good character and grace. There were clearly three World top-ten crews in the race and the racing was accordingly sturdy.

As for the other contests, well, they were all humdingers! I can be certain that every single athlete out there was tested, they went through their own trials getting themselves onto the startline and holding things together when things got a bit wayward (as they inevitably do in our fantastically uncontrollable sport)! A few stories really stood out for me: Lizzie Neave's last gasp 50 on the Monday which ended her road. Her pain was hard to witness, she had campaigned so well; Huw Swetnam's 'privateer' assault to get back onto the Senior Team nearly took him to Rio (that would have been a fairytale-and-a-half), demonstrating to everybody that resourcefulness and tenacity can overcome the disadvantages of not being on Lottery funding; the battle for the 3rd C1M spot between Adam Burgess and Tom Quinn, carried out on a knife edge and with some intense racing; the battle for the 3rd K1M spot between Bradley Forbes-Cryans and Tom Brady. My jaw was a bit slack watching the kayak racing, I sometimes couldn't believe what these guys were pulling off; Jasmine Royle fighting on a very tough wicket to get back into the C1W Team, and going down punching. It was emotional, keenly felt because I knew all those involved and could easily imagine the grit and spirit required.

Which brings me onto the main story of the weekend, the Olympic Team. There is no doubt in my mind that the Rio team is the strongest Olympic team ever across the four classes. All the members have won medals at top flight international races. David Florence and Richard Hounslow already have Olympic medals in their cabinets. David and Richard made their selections more assured with their Worlds results, but I have no doubt that they had to work very hard to seal the deal, even though it was done comparatively quickly. Their experience and consistency will be powerful. Fiona Pennie's battle will undoubtedly have added to her confidence as a big day performer, and she now becomes a double Olympian. I believe that Joe Clarke's exceptionally controlled run to secure the K1M place could well be a defining moment in his career, giving him the confidence to stand on the Olympic stage and race freely on the big days. Congratulations to them all, it's a very big deal and they were selected off the back of excellent performances!

So it is going to be tough watching them. There will be plenty of reminders of these trials. I can admit  that I anticipate having to deal with some painful feelings on many occasions over the next few months. But therein lies the challenge for me. I know that I can feel like this, it's all too easy.

Thanks to Peter Milsom.

But I don't want to. I want to allow myself to feel contentment in what I did and what I do, grateful for the chance to paddle at a high level for a few months longer. I don't want to feel bad about what might have been, I want to feel good about what I have already. I think it is possible, and although I will allow myself the odd Rio day dream, I will be sure to generate some alternative 2016 stories to entertain myself. I will choose to let go of Rio and grab onto the day I have.