Deep inside you, there is the dull throbbing of anxiety--fear, even.
     Maybe it's because you're planning to go paddle the famed Gauley River for the first time this fall. Or you're entering your first river race soon. Or maybe you're planning simply to get in a canoe or kayak for the first time a few days from now.
     Why should any of these circumstances be the cause of anxiety? Because they are new to you; they are unfamiliar. They will lead you into territory you've never visited before.
     So… why not go there right now?
     Really.
     No, I'm not telling you to hop in your car and go there physically right now. Go there in your mind.

My high school cross country coach gave me my first experience with visualization as an aid to athletic performance. He would take my teammates and me to a quiet, peaceful place, either in the empty gymnasium or out in a grassy open space, and have us lie down and close our eyes. For the first few minutes he would get us to relax, encouraging us to tense certain muscle groups and then release them, and to put all outside concerns aside. Then, in his calm, reassuring voice, he would walk us through our next meet, from the moment we arrived in the van at the race site to the moment we crossed the finish line.
     To some extent, our coach's efforts might have been wasted on us--after all, we were a bunch of 16- and 17-year-old kids, full of hormones and more concerned with whether the girls over at cheerleading practice were looking at us than with some meet that was still at least 24 hours away. But the exercise did have its merits. It was an effective way for the coach to impress upon us some of the important race-day details, for instance. Nobody on our team ever forgot his shoes or forgot to pin his race number onto his jersey.
     As I matured as an athlete and as a person, competing in college meets and, later, in canoe and kayak races, I began to realize just what a powerful tool visualization could be.
     A big competition, a difficult rapid, or a similar challenge can be very intimidating, and when taken as a whole, it's like trying to eat one of those 72-ounce "Big Tex" steaks in one bite: you will be overwhelmed. On top of that, there are always distractions, especially around competitions, where a real circus atmosphere often prevails. Visualization enables the paddler to take that "Big Tex" steak and cut it up into small bits.
     Bill Endicott, the long-time coach of the U.S. Whitewater Slalom Team, discusses visualization (or "mental rehearsal," as he calls it) in his book The Ultimate Run: Canoe Slalom at the Highest Levels:

"[Mental rehearsal] is especially useful in helping a boater learn new techniques and to learn a race course. Essentially, the boater tries to imagine in as much detail as possible every aspect of the situation he is about to encounter… [M]ental rehearsal is based upon the principle that the subconscious mind cannot tell the difference between a real experience and one that is vividly imagined. Thus, by imagining things accurately ahead of time, the boater achieves the equivalent of many 'practice runs' down the course and 'experiences' the situation he is preparing for many times before actually being in it."

     These ideas, while aimed at racers in Endicott's book, can just as easily be applied to other paddling challenges--running a difficult rapid, for instance, or even just attempting an Eskimo roll for the first time.
     This month I will be competing in the 22^nd annual Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race on the Mississippi River here at Memphis. In the four years that I have raced in the elite class of this 3-mile event, I have improved my time by over two minutes and finished as high as third, and I credit visualization as a significant factor in the progress I have made. Here is a brief description of the things I go over in my mind multiple times in the days leading up to the race:

     I imagine myself in the parking lot at the top of the course, interacting with friends, acquaintances, and competitors. This might seem like an irrelevant detail, but in fact it is anything but: it is the circus atmosphere that I mentioned earlier. It is not uncommon for an athlete to feel intimidated when he sees his most formidable competitors arriving at the race site, and the anxiety can be especially keen if an unexpected competitor shows up. Visualizing such situations ahead of time helps me deal with them calmly.
     Next, I am in my boat, on the water. Having a good start and getting good position early is of vital importance in a canoe and kayak race, and I concentrate hard on this part of the race in my visualization. I imagine having a good start, in which everything goes according to plan, but I also imagine imperfect scenarios and how I might respond to them. This way, I am prepared not to panic if the unexpected occurs at the starting line on race day.
     Next, I imagine the section of the course between the start and the Hernando DeSoto Bridge. This is where I want to settle into a fast but comfortable rhythm, and assess my competitive position. Again, I rehearse various scenarios in my mind: riding a competitor's wake, trying to maintain contact with paddlers ahead of me, trying to distance myself from paddlers behind me.
     The section of the course between the Hernando DeSoto Bridge and the southern tip of Mud Island is often the place to make a move on a close competitor. I imagine myself both as the attacker and as the attacked.
     The final half-mile of the course, on the flatwater of Memphis Harbor, is the last furious dash toward the finish line. I imagine myself paddling as hard as I can, but paddling efficiently, with good stroke form, to maximize the propulsion my boat gets from each stroke.

The result of all this visualization is that when race day finally arrives, everything is old hat to me; I've been there before. Are my butterflies all gone? Am I stress-free? Of course not. But it's good stress--it's manageable stress. It is the result not of fear, but of MOTIVATION. My "Big Tex" steak has been sliced up into bite-size chunks, and I'm ready to dig in.
     Give visualization a try for your next big paddling challenge. Imagine yourself at the top of that big rapid, or hanging upside down underwater during your first Eskimo roll attempt. Visualization is surprisingly difficult to master and requires a fair amount of practice before it becomes effective, but if you love to paddle (and isn't that why we do it?), it will be some of the best daydreaming you ever do.