Watching olympic kayaking on television made me consider kayaking as part of my own athletic discipline, and what it would be like to share that with the world. To engage our bodies in concert with the bounties of Mother Nature feels too intimate, too sensual to broadcast on live television. Isn’t kayaking too sexy for television?
I mean, think about the shape of the boats from a bird's eye. Long and slender, or short and stubby, tapered at both ends, with a hole in the middle. These boats are vaginal and phallic at the same time. The shape of a kayak is a non-binary’s dream of sexual representation. We are dancing around in multicolored slits in the water. Panning down to a profile view, our bodies are not just in the boats, but simultaneously penetrating and sticking out-- groan worthy.
I recently took a solo paddle, where I felt I could really take my time and savor each stroke, and as I was in the throes of rowing, I pondered if part of my problem with confronting the public while kayaking is related to the sensuality of it. Maybe these folks in their lake houses shouldn’t be peeking, those naughties!
Reader, I believe that if my kayaking was caught on television, that the FCC would be in contact with everyone involved. When I’m in the boat, I can’t help but notice that everyone I’m with gets wet, even the people on dry land. And who doesn’t swamp themselves when they see a perfectly executed waterfall huck?
But aside from the sensuality, kayaking for me is very personal. This is how I center myself and get in touch with otherwise dormant parts of my identity. I kayak as a form of meditation, to allow my body to slip into autopilot to liberate my brain. To access parts of myself that otherwise lie dormant in day-to-day life. Though, I feel it's a worthy goal to bring forth these audacious yet tender parts of ourselves sprinkled uninhibited throughout the rest of our lives.
To think of the mental space these athletes must be in– to surrender themselves into a routine, finding themselves in a deep physical meditation they’ve been in thousands of times before. Accessing a flow state worthy of achieving divine enlightenment, all on display for everyone across the globe to witness. The intimacy is incredibly high, as viewers we get to see the product of years of effort, training and engagement with one’s senses.
I couldn’t imagine competing, turning something I love into a hierarchical tool for judgment and scrutiny against others, let alone doing so on intergalactic television.
Watching the slalom is always about as intimate as live sports can get, one person inserting themselves and gliding back and forth across the gushing stream, BUT– the athletes that make it to the olympic level all take themselves far too seriously to make it look erotic.
And you can’t be in a hurry and sexy at the same time.
This is especially true for the sprint paddlers– woah fellas, be careful you don’t get blisters working your paddle like that! And you’ve no doubt heard, one poor teenager was so excited at the start that he prematurely evacuated.
Kayak cross assuaged some of my concerns over FCC approval of the broadcast. This was the event where four paddlers raced head to head around the inflatable markers. This addition of an olympic event seemed like a cross between American Gladiators and something you’d find on Redbull TV. Making a PFD look sexy isn’t too tall of an order, but a mouthguard is too much protection to look sexy. For a quick analogy of the sexiness of sporting equipment: football shoulder pads– yes, daddy; basketball facemask– no thank you, go back to your horror film, honey.
Also, kayak cross had just enough contact to be violent enough to obfuscate the sensualities of paddling. It's a good thing those folks were wearing mouthguards, I saw one woman get smacked in the jaw by the bow of another boat! Yikes! I know the liberated Gen Zers and other people who identify as being more interesting online than in-person claim to be interested in kinks, but a boat to the face is not my idea of intimacy.
Despite my initial concerns over the appropriateness of the broadcast to watch in front of my young children, the Olympic Games does a good job of maintaining a high degree of competition, which, I believe, is negatively correlated to the sexiness of the games.
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