The Rare Gift of 20,000 Hours

According to Malcolm Gladwell, we each need to practice something for at least 10,000 hours to achieve mastery. Though I would argue that quality matters as much as quantity, a quick and dirty estimate back in 2004 revealed a surprising “fact:” that’s about how much time I had put into sailboat racing on my way to the Olympics.

(Even after writing this post, I still haven’t bothered to add up all the hours since then.)

Kim Couranz has put in her own 10,000 hours racing sailboats, and a lot of that time has been in a Snipe with me. I’ve written before about the benefits of a long-term sailing partner, and a few weekends ago we put our 15 years of mutual muscle memory to use at the Snipe Colonial Cup in Annapolis. After one light-air hour of practice on Friday afternoon and getting blown out on Saturday, we sailed out Sunday morning for a four-race, one-day regatta—in one of the most difficult wind directions. The wacky 5-20 knot westerly never did settle onto a direction or strength for more than about 30 seconds. 

Thanks to work and other distractions, our last Snipe regatta was back in February. Before racing, I grudgingly admitted to Kim (and myself) that it would probably take a race or two before I found my groove again.

I was right. We were already halfway through the regatta before I was steering well upwind; anticipating rather than reacting to puffs, lulls, and particularly odd waves. Downwind the mixed-up chop seemed too small and close together to be easily surfable, so we prioritized both keeping the bow from burying and staying upright. It wasn’t until after racing that I realized how many teams had capsized; I was far too focused on my own boathandling to look around. But as I gradually regained my feel, our speed improved; we posted our best result on the last race of the day. 

Even if Kim and I have only averaged ten days of Snipe sailing each year since 2010 (and I bet it’s more), that’s almost 1000 hours—each—of building muscle memory. Out of 48 boats in the Colonial Cup fleet, I can only think of one other team that has logged more time together in a Snipe—and they’ve been married for 30 years, while we live 400 miles apart. 

It’s a rare gift to share such a passion for this challenging corner of our sport with someone who encourages me to do my best—without judging when I don’t achieve that. I’m so grateful to Kim for her friendship, support, and willingness to continue sailing with me; I can’t imagine how long it would’ve taken for me to settle into such a difficult sailing day without all of those hours and miles of team familiarity.

Our next regatta is only a week away, and thanks to Monday night racing I will be a little less rusty by then. But I will still be relying heavily on the fantastic depth of our experience—especially since almost all of those hours we’ve accumulated together have been a boatload of fun.

Got a long-term sailing relationship to crow about? Share your thoughts in the comments below, or send me an email. Thanks for being here, and see you next Thursday!