Asked if he ever worries that he won’t come up when he rolls, one paddling friend said, “Every time.” But knowing that even experienced paddlers get the jitters doesn’t help when you’re upside down in an element that can drown you and the back brain is screaming, “Nooo!”
In June of 2023 I was driving out to Emigrant Lake for my first roll session in 8 months. Anxiety dampened enthusiasm. What if I flubbed my roll? Nevertheless, I knocked out 10 rolls no problem. Driving home that day, a sense of deep contentment and peace pervaded mind and body, a chill vibe that rivalled the calm I experience after the best meditation sessions. It always feels good to complete a roll session, but it had never felt Zen before. Why was this one so satisfying?
Pondering this, I had an epiphany: in the same way tai chi connects me to martial arts even though I no longer work out in a dojo and meditation connects me to yoga even though I no longer do many postures, rolling can connect me to kayaking when I no longer paddle rivers, go on expeditions, or surf.
People around me are aging out of extreme sports and activities. Last year my own kayaking trips were more mild than wild. In martial arts, as dedicated students age, some adapt by studying the internal aspects of the practice. It’s the same for yoga. Not all yogis practice postures in the sense generally understood in the West, especially as they age. But they still practice.
The internal aspect of an activity is not the same as the mental aspect. It’s deeper. Access to the internal occurs when the mind is quiet. In the same way, when there’s wind, rain, or waves the water is disturbed and mud, sand, and debris cloud the water. When the weather is calm, the water is clear.
Translating this concept into action, if someone suddenly tells you to grab a stone and “hit that tree”, you just do it. When you try again it’s harder because now you’re thinking about it. In the state of “no mind”, as the Zen masters call it, action is effortless.
In the same way I spar without getting the jitters and sit for meditation without attaching to what happens, I should be able to flip without fear. The difference is that I’ve had decades of practice in the disciplines of martial arts and yoga but only recently developed a consistent rolling practice. Still, experience shows that consistent practice bears fruit over time. That day on the lake, once I stopped thinking about it, the body, primed with hundreds of rolls, performed effortlessly.
One might think the way to neutralize anxiety around an action is to just do it, but it’s not that simple. Extreme anxiety can stop you in your tracks. How, then, to cultivate the Zen of rolling? When I was learning to roll, TR Jeff Laxier of Liquid Fusion Kayaking gave me a mantra: “Left hand, left shoulder. Eyes on blade. Snap. Sweep to finish.” During a practice session, I recite this mantra. It cues me up to do all the right things. It also provides a focus so any anxiety recedes into the background.
Thinking about similarities between rolling and other disciplines, I began to see the roll as just another form, like a tai chi form only short. Actually, rolling is similar to performing a judo throw – it’s all in the hip, though there are other factors. Many components make up a well-executed throw, like turning the hip as you step in, dropping down to get under the opponent’s center of gravity, and looking left to turn your head and shoulders so the opponent flies over you instead of sliding over your back. It’s hard to think about all the components all the time, and my tai chi teacher recommended focusing on one at a time during practice. At Medford Judo Academy we even had a mantra: “squat low, look left!”
Using a similar process to that which I’d used to teach myself a tai chi form on the second side, I taught myself to do an offside roll. Using Jeff’s mantra, I substituted “Right hand, right shoulder,” for “Left hand, left shoulder.” Breaking down the action into the four parts: Hand, Eyes, Snap, Finish, it wasn’t long before I was rolling on the “other” side as well. Understanding the value of single focus in martial arts practice helped me understand its value in roll practice too.
During roll practice a paddler can focus on one discrete piece at a time: keeping the hand at the shoulder, keeping the head down, snapping the hip and so on. Fine tuning one component at a time while letting the others go for the moment, you can really hone your form. Or you can get yourself a mantra. Either way, the mind is tethered to an object, not free to wander into unhelpful and irrelevant thoughts and emotions. Eventually, everything comes together in a smooth flow. Action is effortless.
There are probably as many ways to practice rolling a kayak as there are kayakers. Drills my mentors have given me include:
- count to 5 or 10 before rolling up
- let go of the paddle, count to 5, grab it again and roll
- flip, set up, move over to the opposite side (underwater) and set up again, then move back to the original side, set up and roll
- flip from different positions besides the standard set up, then roll
- sprint forward 10 strokes or so, flip at random, then roll
- roll 4 or 5 times as fast as you can from different set up positions without stopping
- always allow for 2 tries and if you fail, transition to an extended paddle roll
Note: Always take a few forward strokes after each roll to build muscle memory so you don’t get caught flat-footed in dynamic conditions when you come up.
Having a Plan B is also helpful. Notice the last item on the list of drills above offers an alternative: use the extended paddle roll after 2 unsuccessful tries. The extended paddle roll offers powerful leverage to pop yourself up before you get tired or anxious and pull the skirt. If you haven’t learned this technique, add it to your tool box.
Visualization is also a powerful tool. Using the eyes of the mind, trained athletes can picture a successful action, then reproduce it on a field, on a court, or in a kayak. Before practice, keep the mind on track by running a mental video of all your great rolls from the past. If you have good video or photos of yourself, study them. A twist on this technique is to remember the feeling of satisfaction when you surf a great wave, run a great rapid, or knock out a great roll. Visualization and memory are both forms of focus, and remembering your best moments can shift the mood from anxiety to enthusiasm.
It’s easier to focus when you slow down. That day at Emigrant Lake, knowing I was anxious I put the spray skirt on the coaming and pulled it off 3 times in a row before getting on the water. Doing this focused my mind on one task while reminding me that I can easily pop out of the boat at any time. Then I paddled over to a handy rock, placed my hands on the rock and rested my head on my hands while practicing hip snaps, keeping the head on the hands till the hips had done their work, then rising into the finish position.
After addressing the lower body component, I went through the upper body component, starting from the set up position holding the paddle on the left side of the boat, keeping the left hand at the left shoulder, and making a big rainbow arch with body and blade to the finish position on the right. This may seem like a lot of bother, but having cued up the body and pacified the mind, when I went for the first roll it was effortless. After 10 rolls and a few flatwater drills, the Zen was real.
Improving performance with single focus applies to other stuff as well. An English professor at my university recommended this practice when editing a paper: do one edit thinking about grammar, one thinking about punctuation, one thinking about spelling, and so on. By focusing on one thing at a time you miss fewer errors and end up doing fewer edits for a better product. In the same way, focusing on one thing at a time when rolling, two things happen. One, as the mind quiets, errors are identified quickly and appropriate corrections can be made. Two, the one-pointedness of the focus blocks out anxiety. And now I’ve answered my original question: why was that first practice of 2023 so Zen? The answer: focus.
Apart from maintaining a solid roll, roll practice helps me stay strong and flexible. It exercises mind as well as body, and even when I don’t go for the big stuff any more, roll practice will keep me connected to the water as practice becomes a moving meditation where the paddler’s journey is less in miles and more in spiritual development. Dedicated practice takes trust, faith, and patience. You have to be a warrior. Focusing on one thing at a time, the mind calms and action becomes effortless. This is the Zen of rolling.
I hope this article is helpful, especially to people who suffer anxiety around rolling, or kayaking in general. Much gratitude to Ashlee Rice, Jim Kakuk and Jeff Laxier who were all instrumental in getting me to roll.
Please share your experiences learning/practicing the kayak roll in the comment section below. Thanks, and happy paddling!
Jim Kakuk says
Excellent breakdown of the process of learning to roll. I especially liked the “rainbow arch” and “left hand, left shoulder, snap up” single focus of visualization.
Nancy Soares says
Thanks, Jim! After I wrote this I watched a video on Fine Tuning the Kayak Roll by Natalie Anderson for Cali Collective and she also emphasized studying the different parts of the roll but with a twist: try deliberately doing something the WRONG way, like bringing your head up first, and then do it the right way to really break it down and study the difference and impress the “why” of an action as well as the “what”. She demonstrated a couple of different drills using this concept and I really liked what she did.
Robert Nissenbaum says
Love your mantra!
Mine – Watch the blade.
Not only does that give me focus, it allows me to relax and allows my body to rotate easier – the leg drive (hip snap – though I don’t care for that concept) is natural. Eyes on the blade also keeps the head down and for longer. As long as my eyes are following the blade, I am good.
For practice I will paddle and roll, I roll down current in places like Deception Pass to force me to slow down and feel the water – to time the roll. I’ll do the same in wind and waves in open water.
I’ll drop my paddle, then roll and grab it. That forces me to focus on where it should be and getting into the set-up position.
Nancy Soares says
Hey Robert, thanks for the feedback!
I agree that keeping your “eyes on the blade” is critical. I almost always have my eyes closed but I know where the blade is and keeping my head turned in that direction keeps it down as you say. I think there’s a natural tendency to want to get the head up so you can breathe, but lifting the head too soon just drops you back down into the water.
In the video I referred to in my reply to Jim (above), Natalie points out that the head is heavy, actually about 11 pounds! When the head comes up too soon, it literally pulls paddler and boat back over. Ideally, the hips snap, starting the chain reaction and the paddler uncoils with the head coming up last of all.
By keeping the eyes tethered to the paddle blade, the head stays down, the body keeps its frame, and everything works together so you can come right up.
Thanks for reading and thanks for your comment!
Cathy Hathaway says
As someone learning to roll, I really appreciate the shared insights. Looking forward to my own rolling zen!
Nancy Soares says
You go girl! Find that Zen moment. Thanks for reading, and for your comment!
Jeff Bedford says
Nancy, Thanks. This was an enjoyable read. As someone who hasn’t rolled much in the last few years, it gave me a greater, as we get older, perspective.
The TR crew was always my inspiration for the crazy things that my wife and I did in Mendo.
Your writing always brings me back there.
Jeff Bedford
Nancy Soares says
Thanks for your kind words, Jeff. I appreciate you!