world boat racing records

Coast to Coast One Day World Championship – My Part in it

After my first Coast to Coast, which I did as a team with my brother Keith, I entered the following two years as a two day individual. I was a bit more up to it by then as my kayaking had improved, I was spending more time on the bike and was running off road a fair bit. At the time, to enter the One day race you had to better a qualifying time of 15hours on a two day campaign. It took me the two tries to attain this time and in doing so gained more experience with the race itself.

So in 1994 I entered for the One Day, World Championship Event with trepidation and was accepted. This was a much more involved side of the race. Different fitness levels were required and more in depth training would be needed. I made up a training schedule and attended a seminar, held by a well known nutritionist, on how to eat and drink for the training and the race itself. This was a massive eye opener for me, the amount of calories needed, the constant in take of the right fluids, and the right mix of amino acid replacements was scary stuff. It took a while to find the right product for me. There are a lot of them out there and many did not agree with me one way or another. Though finally I did find one which sat in my stomach and did not react as laxative, so I stayed with that one.

Now began an eight month training campaign, which turned out to be a great time for me and I am sure by the time the race came around I was as fit as I had ever been and I was now 47 years old. I started slowly, building up my running, cycling and kayaking distances, since it was a while since the end of the last race. I was also doing a weights programme I had designed as a sort of circuit training session which could be done while I was on shift at the Fire Station in their gym. I was still looking after my children on my days off from the service though they were now growing up a bit and were almost 15, 13 and 10 years old. Within the fire service shift system, I worked two days of ten hours and two nights of fourteen hours and had four days off. My days shifts started at 0700hrs through till 1800hrs and my night shifts started at 1800hrs through till 0800hrs.

I cycled to work on the first day, leaving home about 0545hrs and arriving at work about 0730hrs in time to shower before my shift. In the afternoon we had an hour aside to do gym training, so I spent this time and more on my weight circuits. That first night at the end of the shift I would run home along the river and up to the local plantation. I would run the blue track of about ten kilometres and then on to home. The next day I would run to work and bike home that night. I did a similar pattern with my night shifts. I just varied the distances to fit in with schedule. On my days off I had to see the kids off to school then start my training. These days each of my disciplines were extended to suit the timetable the day offered me.

Often on a Wednesday I would meet up with my brother Keith. We would cycle about 25 kilometres to either Sumner or Kennedy’s Bush, run up the hill to the crater rim track and continue through to the Sign of the Kiwi then back to the bikes and home. These often took about five hours to complete. On my other days I would cycle with other people or by myself and also paddle the local river. I put in a lot of hard training for the next five months.

About the beginning of December I started doing a mini Coast to Coast ever Friday. This was my way of seeing how well I was doing. I would get up, do a cycle of about 65kms over the Port Hills to Sumner, park my bike at a friends place, change my shoes and run up the hill and out to end bay and back along the seaward side to Sumner., this was about a two hour run. I changed back to my bike shoes and rode home from there. Once home I would take my boat to the river, which was just across the road and paddle for an hour or more till I was level with the fire station in town. I would turn around and paddle back down stream to home once more. Back there I would get back onto the bike and cycle about 35kms around the Brooklands block and home. A good warm down then a nice hot shower, these days were about seven to eight hours in duration and I always felt good after them. Three weeks out from race day I wound down my training to a holding amount in each discipline and started to do small sprints to get ready for the start of the race.

Finally race day came around. I was feeling fit enough and got my support team together. This consisted of my eldest son James who was about 14 at the time and a very good friend Scott. My brother Keith was doing the two day individual this same year. As this was now our fourth year doing the Coast to Coast, we had things down to a fine art. We had booked a motel, better than a tent and everyone knew what was expected from them on the day. As long as I could stay out of trouble I hoped to have a good day. We had the usual great feed at the Kumara Community Hall and laughed, as always, at the antics of Juddy on the pre race talk. As serious as it is, he always made it fun.

The next morning was the start of the two day event and we saw Keith off and headed to Klondyke Corner to await his arrival. Keith did really well on the first day and arrived out of the mountain run in good time. We wished him luck for the following day and headed back to our motel.

Next morning was my turn, what all the training had come down to. I was dropped off with my bike and my support team headed off to the Deception transition point. Once again I lined up on the beach, the big difference this year was there was only 100 of us at the start, Juddy gave us the start with the air horn and we were on our way. Top athletes from around the world headed up the track on the run to the bikes. I was a little slow, not enough training on the three kilometre runs, make a note. Finally made it to the bikes and took off. Not many around and finding it hard to get into a bunch. Team up with one other guy and we stick together till the finish of the cycle leg.

One of the last to enter the mountain run, though once into the run I felt a lot better, all of the training starting to come to the fore. On my way up to Goats Pass I pass many other competitors, some I know, others I don’t, but say hi to them all along the way. A few pass me as well, feeling good now. At Goats Pass and now down the Mingha side of the mountain. Still passing the odd person and running well. Now at Dudley’s Knob which is a sharp rise on the downward side, on the other side of the Knob we head into the tree roots section. Very near the bottom of this area I make a very bad mistake. I catch my foot in one of the roots and go over twisting my left ankle on the way down and let out a large scream. Two or three people stop to make sure I am all right and have not broken my leg. Luckily it’s just a very bad strain, but still very painful. After about five minutes or more I picked myself up and hobbled on down to the next water crossing where I stopped in mid stream to soak my ankle. Luckily the water comes from up high and is very cold, just what the doctor ordered. I stay there till my ankle feels a lot better and set off on the run again. Every time I came to water I stopped and soaked my ankle again and this way I made it to the end of the run, even though quite a few people had taken me over on the way.

On the way out some of the officials wanted me to stop as they could see I was in pain. I just hobbled on to the bike and cycled the next 15 kms to the top of the walkway to Mt. Whites bridge. It was here that I started to have misgivings, as I walked down to the water with support from my son I came to the conclusion I could not go on. I told James this and his reply was. “Dad, I know you, you will never forgive yourself if you don’t get into the boat” I started to argue with him but he insisted I carry on and just see what happens. He helped me into my gear and then the boat and with his stubbornness and support I paddled off from there thinking I had better live up to his expectations. I was pleased with my kayaking leg, my ability had improved over the years and the paddle was mostly uneventful, though still painful. At the end of the paddle Scott had to lift me out of the boat as could not push with my ankle.

I struggled up to the bike area, changed into my biking gear and by this time my ankle was black and about the size of a boys football. It still hurt real bad and as I cycled away on the 70 kms to Sumner I received a lot of emotional support from my crew. As usual it was a head wind all the way to Sumner and I could only push at a slow speed as any faster really hurt. My support crew followed me all the way and edged me on when they aw me slowing. Later rather than sooner I reached Sumner, made it to the bike drop area and then, amazingly, managed a slow jog into the finish line. My son, Keith, Scott, lots of other family and friends were there to cheer me over the line and I was so pleased to see the finish and Juddy still waiting there to welcome me home.

It’s just amazing what you can achieve with the right support. My son was right, I would never have forgiven myself if I had pulled out. As it was it took a long time for me to forgive myself for the trip and the slow time I recorded on the day. Never mind, maybe another day. Oh and by the way, I did get my beer. Thanks Juddy.

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