Five months after the start of my Coast to Coast adventure, race day was finally here! Our alarm went off at 4 a.m. (yawn) after a short night. We were lucky though; the alarm in the Van Dorp family cabin went off at 3 a.m. after a finger slipped while setting the clock.
I got dressed and had a small breakfast with strong coffee. There wasn't much room in my stomach with all the butterflies in there.
It was about 20 minutes from our motel to the bike stands where we left our bikes and shoes lined up in order of our race numbers. I had a small coloured glow stick on my bike so it would be recognizable from a distance.
We could wear extra clothing to the start and they would take it to the end of the mountain run. Same with any running shoes we left at the bike racks after changing into bike shoes. As an aside, Speight's Coast to Coast is an absolute masterpiece of organization. There are 450 people working on the race ranging from paid safety specialists to a huge number of volunteers. The event is in its 29th year and has had the same title sponsor for 22 years so it has been able to grow and mature in a way that few other adventure events in the world have done. The entry fee for the 1-day race is about $800 Canadian so you pay for what you get but it is definitely a class act.
Anyway, back to the bike racks... Jack had race number 4 so he would be one of the first runners to reach his bike after the run.
Pieces of gooey energy bar were stuck to his top tube. Yum, so appetizing!
From here, it was close to 3 km to the starting line at Kumara Beach and we had to get there on foot without lights. I crossed my fingers that I wouldn't turn my ankle in a pothole. Along the way, I got chatting to a couple of New Zealanders. Upon learning I was from Canada, one of them asked me, "Are you the one writing posts on Attackpoint about this?" Small world! "Rabbit" said he was really enjoying the photos. I never know who reads my blog but it is always a nice surprise to learn about people I haven't met.
We headed down to the beach (see Wed. Feb. 9 log entry for beach pics). Most of us walked over to the water's edge in the moonlight and waited for a tame wave so we could stick our toe in the Tasman Sea. We were supposed to line up according to race number but it seemed to be just a big pack of people on the beach. I found some numbers in the same ballpark as mine and we wished one other good luck. It was still dark so we could barely see race director Robin Judkins as he counted down the last couple of minutes.
GO!! I ran three steps before bumping into some unseen-in-the-dark obstacle at shin height (hummock? piece of driftwood?) that knocked me onto my face. The fall was nothing serious but I'd already taken a starting position near the back of the pack and now I had lost another 3-4 precious seconds. By the time I scrambled up the big boulders onto the road, I was at the back of the line of runners. At the best of times, I'm not a sprinter, especially at the start of a 243-km race.
As it turns out, this short road run was the crux of my race even though it never seemed like I was that far behind the main pack. Looking at the Garmin data, the pace of my 2nd kilometer (the only "pure" road running km) was about 10 seconds/km slower than my 10K race pace so maybe a longer warm-up would have helped. Or maybe I should have focused on treadmill speed intervals this winter instead of all the trail running and paddling that I thought would be so important for C2C. ;) Forget that - this stuff is supposed to be fun!
Compared to yesterday's 2-day racers, these people were flying. In fact, a new course record was set today for the combined 3 km run / 55 km bike section. Apparently, some years the race starts more slowly than others. Just my luck to hit the fastest year ever! By the time I hopped on my bike (#94 - a long run along the racks in numerical order), I was in last place. Ugh.
In most long events, this would be no big deal. I often start out near the back then work my way up the ranks because I feel better as a long race progresses. However, in C2C, it is a *huge* deal to be at the back at the start because the next 55 km bike ride is the only draft-legal section of the race. Riders set out in various groups working together at different paces. I wasn't far behind the last group when I started riding, and I pedalled after their tail lights like a madwoman. But a group of riders working together can go much faster than any single rider so I never really had a chance. It took me a number of kilometers of hammering to reach that sad conclusion. Even if I'd had one other rider to share the work with, I could have avoided the full brunt of the wind half the time. I did catch one guy but he wasn't doing well so he asked me to keep going. Looking at the results later, it appears that maybe 3-4 riders out of 159 rode the full distance by themselves. Even the last pair of riders who were together finished the run/bike leg about 20 minutes faster than I did. Jack and the lead pack were 56 minutes ahead of me in their record time.
The horrible thought - "my race is over" - flashed through my mind briefly then I banished it for good. I'd never cared about beating any other competitor. I only wanted to beat the time cut-offs and now I was going to have to work my butt off to make that happen. There were ups and downs on this 55 km bike ride with a net climb of about 350 meters as we headed into the Alps. In some stretches, I was fighting a headwind - argghh. The highway was closed so I only saw occasional race vehicles and volunteers for over two hours. It was dark and I was feeling a bit lonely when I remembered to listen very carefully... and then I could "hear" friends back in Canada saying, "Go Barb go"! :) Thanks to those of you who followed the race real time and also to the people who followed my log and gave support leading up to the race. You have no idea how much strength I drew from you all that morning.
Physically, I was working much harder than I wanted to that early in the race but I felt good otherwise. The one bad thing was that my knees got a little sore from pushing hard on the uphills. I tried to keep a high cadence but I know I cheated at times because I felt such a sense of urgency. I stood up on my pedals more than I ever have!
While I was on the road, Richard and Andrew were waiting in the bike/run TA at Aicken's Corner with the other support crews.
At 2 hrs 34 min, shortly after they'd given me up for dead, I finally rolled into the TA.
We had a super quick transition then I was off on the run having moved up to (woo hoo!) 3rd last place. (The rider behind me dropped out injured and I passed a guy in the TA.) We started by running 3 km on private farmland that we hadn't been able to access on our training runs.
They sent us a fair distance upstream to cross the Otira River after some racers went swimming on purpose yesterday. Then I headed up the now-familiar Deception Valley. The river was fairly high and I got swept away for a swim on my second crossing of the Deception. I was so happy to be off my bike that I was running at a good pace whenever the terrain allowed it. For the most part, I remembered where the crossings and hidden trail fragments were. When I couldn't, I played it by ear and things went well. In the upper reaches of the Deception, I caught up with several other runners and we stayed together for the final section, much of which is power walking on steep, slippery, rooty trails and climbing over big boulders.
Somewhere in here, I stepped off a big boulder onto some rocks and hyper-extended my right knee, which was hurting from the long solo bike ride. It had already been bruised and swollen all week after I'd banged into a boulder during one of my river crossing swims when we test ran the course. By this point, my knee was getting seriously peeved at me for being so careless. As we approached Goat Pass, it was inflamed enough that I started to wonder whether I could be causing permanent damage. If Goat Pass had been at a road, I would have had to seriously consider the wisdom of dropping out.
But since I was on top of a wilderness mountain pass, I figured I might as well keep going down the other side. While my run up Goat Pass was faster than our training run, my time going down to the TA was about the same. I was tentative about landing too hard on that knee when there were big drops. I'd expected to go harder on race day but after watching Richard with his knee problems for the past 18 months, I didn't want to end up in the same boat. Even so, my overall mountain run time (5 hrs 51 min) was faster than our estimate. Combined with a proper group bike ride, I would have been in good shape at this point.
Photo credit to Paul's Camera Shop for several pics of me on the mountain run.
Richard and Andrew were waiting and watching at the run/bike TA at Klondyke Corner.
Richard Ussher's support crew member carried his racer's gear on a belt.
Ussher's transitions are smooooooth.
Our friend Sam Clark came in looking strong just a few minutes after Richard. More on him later.
Waiting for Jack, the boys wore some of his gear so it would be ready to transfer quickly.
No photos of Jack since all hands were on deck when he was in the TA. So here's a photo of someone else with his crew and you'll just have to pretend it is Jack.
One thing that went right today was the TAs. We were so efficient that I don't think I could have gained any time there. Richard and Andrew were awesome. We'd planned and discussed everything in detail and they made smart decisions on the fly. My crew didn't let me stand still for any longer than it took to change shoes - and after my transition practice with Jack, that went quickly! The boys said that our TAs were faster than many of the racers in our part of the pack. Of course, when you're fast enough on the race course, you can afford an extra minute or two in the TA.
Late in the run, I looked at my watch frequently, as if it would suddenly change its mind and tell me better news. The problem was this: I had to arrive on the north side of Mt. Whyte bridge by 3 p.m. That was the TA for the start of the kayak section. If I got there by 3 p.m., I had till 3:15 p.m. to get my boat in the water, which would be simple. To get there from the end of the mountain run, I had to do a hilly 15 km bike ride followed by an 800 meter run down a gravel road in bike shoes to get across the bridge. As I ran down the Mingha Valley, I kept doing the math and trying to be optimistic. A few kilometers from the end, I realized I was too late but I still wanted to push hard to miss the cut-off by as little as possible. A brief wave of emotion washed over me but after exactly one dry-eyed, gut wrenching sob, I was fine - and I've been fine about it ever since. When I scrambled up the bank into the Klondyke Corner TA, I expected my crew to tell me we had to pull the plug.
But no! An official had told Richard that the 3 p.m. arrival cut-off at Mt. Whyte was soft - that I should be fine as long as I could start paddling by 3:15 p.m. Sure, I could do that. No problem. So Richard ran with me along the chute and we planned what we would do after I'd crossed the timing mat when he would be allowed to start helping me.
I didn't take off my run pack - just asked Richard to pull all the mandatory mountain gear out of it, then I grabbed my bike shoes and helmet from Andrew and took off super quickly at 2:29 p.m.. So quickly that I had a big hunk of hair sticking out the front of my helmet over my face so I couldn't see very well! The next 15 km of biking was twisty and hilly, and the highway was open to traffic, so it would have been nice to be able to see. I pushed hard and it went well. I got over 50 kph on two curving descents with guard rails and steep drop-offs. Maybe it was best that I couldn't see! On one of the climbs I could feel a tailwind pushing me up. The road twisted enough that the wind wasn't always going in a helpful direction though.
Richard and Andrew packed up at the run/bike TA and sped past me to get to the bike/kayak TA before I did.
I got to the bike drop, then Richard and I ran together down the gravel road to Mt. Whyte bridge. I had 800 meters to run in bike shoes. Andrew was waiting on the far side of the bridge with my kayak. Chris and Nelvia had taken both kayaks there in the morning for "scrutineering", a formal check of the kayak and all mandatory gear. Andrew waited with my kayak until the official counted down and said, "OK, this TA is closed". Andrew picked up my boat immediately and walked along the riverbank to the bridge. Richard and I met him on the bridge so it's possible that the cut-off was extended a little after 3 p.m. on my watch. However, when I got across the bridge, it was 3:07 and I'd missed it for sure. The cut-off time to launch my kayak would have been 3:15 p.m. and it would have been easy to do that - but the rules don't work that way.
As it turns out, I was lucky. They cut off one of the women I'd met on the run even though she arrived *before* 3 p.m. They wouldn't let her go because she had a plastic kayak; they said she would hold up the sweep kayakers. I met another fellow who was told at 2:15 p.m. that they recommended against him going unless he was an experienced paddler because the wind was strong in the Gorge. He'd had a couple of swims on his training run so decided to call it a day. If I'd been there by 3 p.m. it would have taken a team of wild horses to prevent me from getting into my kayak! :)
It would have been a challenging day on the river. A number of kayakers, including Jack, were blown over by the wind. (Jack rolled up.) The day after the race, they had to extract 30 boats that were left behind, mostly by 2-day racers. Reviewing the times for the leg, it looks like a 3 p.m. arrival would have given me a shot at making it down the river before the cut-off in a moderately fast boat with reasonable paddling skills. I would have had to work hard to keep the pace up and do my best to avoid swimming. It wouldn't have been easy but I would like to have tried.
After sticking my toe in the Tasman Sea at the start, I decided it would be appropriate to stick my toe into the Waimakariri River where I finished. I didn't do Coast to Coast - just Coast Over The Alps to the Upper River. But at least I wanted to do it properly!
Such a beautiful place! It's a sign of progress that I was genuinely disappointed when I was denied the chance to paddle 67 km of whitewater at a relatively high water level. A few months ago, I might have been secretly relieved.
It's a bit of a production to get DNF'ed in a big event like this. I had to fill out and sign a form stating the reason for my DNF. The other woman in the photo is Shelley, the Australian woman with whom I ran the upper part of Goat Pass. She was the one turned back for having a plastic kayak.
Even worse, after doing the paperwork, the official had to strip us of our bibs! Some competitors find it tempting to continue from Coast to Coast using some other mode of transportation, e.g. biking to the finish. So they don't want you to look like you're in the race anymore. I'm hoping I will get my bib back some day; the official said that I would. Sniff sniff!
We packed up the car, looked at our watches and decided that Jack was already biking to the finish in Sumner Beach so we had better head straight there.
As soon as we got back into cell phone range, I checked Attackpoint and was stunned to see the "RACE DAY" thread on my log with 80 comments. I read them out loud to Richard and Andrew as we sped toward Christchurch. Chris, it is so cool that you prepared the map with TA locations and cut-off times. You made the race much more understandable for online spectators. Valerie, we were laughing so hard at your version of my race report that we nearly went off the road. We were blown away by how accurately you guys collectively guessed what was going on. Thanks so much to all of you who made me smile at a time when I might have started to feel down.
We parked by the finish line in Sumner Beach and dashed over to see who had come in. Only Richard Ussher (10 hrs 41 min) and a few other racers were done. We positioned ourselves to get good photos of Jack.
He finished looking strong and happy, placing 9th in a time of 11 hrs 58 min.
When you cross the finish line, they hand you a Speight's Ale.
When you DNF, they hand you nothing but a form to sign before stripping you of your bib. Honestly, I think the DNFers need the alcohol more than the finishers. But I digress...
As the only non-New Zealander in the top 10, Jack was a big enough deal that he had to be interviewed by the media before we could get to him.
A very proud group of Canadians!
Race Director Robin Judkins congratulated Jack too.
Richard Ussher was waiting for his wife Elina to cross the line.
Jack went over to congratulate Richard - and possibly to do some trash talking before their next race. Not sure. ;)
Dr. Sophie Hart, a multi-sport athlete from Nelson, took the win for the first time. She was so filled with joy, it was contagious.
Elina placed second and looked tired after a big effort. She had the fastest mountain run but got passed on the kayak.
Remember I was saying that her kayak looked wider than I'd expected for a top athlete? It turns out she has two kayaks that she uses on the Waimakariri River depending on the conditions. The wider kayak is for higher river levels.
Nathan Fa'avae was with the Media crew.
Jack is with Bill (left) and Sam Clark, a super friendly father and son we met half a dozen times during our trip to New Zealand. They were doing the same thing we were - testing different pieces of the course leading up to the race. When we did our training run up the Deception/Mingha, Sam was just starting as we arrived so Jack had a running buddy to push the pace. Sam won the 2-day race in 2008. This year he tried the 1-day race and placed 5th. He was just 5 minutes behind Richard Ussher after the mountain run. By the way, did I mention that Sam is 20 years old?!? Talk about an amazingly bright future in endurance sports!
After watching the top finishers come in, we all relaxed, asked each other about our respective days, and enjoyed the beach. No, just kidding. We all started tapping madly on our phones, ignoring each other completely as we sent out news flashes. ;)
We'd managed to score an amazing apartment overlooking the finish line so we sat out on the porch in the evening and watched until the last finisher came in around 10:40 p.m.
Huge congratulations to Jack on an awesome performance! And a big thank you to our amazing support crew - Richard, Andrew, Chris and Nelvia. It was fun travelling with the gang around New Zealand and it was a great experience to see how a top racer like Jack approaches an event like this.
As for me, of course I would have loved to finish C2C. I always knew that the cut-offs were going to be tight if not impossible - although I wasn't expecting it to happen quite the way it did. As it turns out, my mountain running and kayaking skills/speed were sufficient to finish the race on time. My road running sprints, however, need work.
Some time ago, organizers had advised us to switch to the 2-day race if we had any concerns about meeting cut-offs. If it was only about finishing ranked, that's what I would have done but I really wanted to take a shot at being the age group World Multisport Champion even if it meant going down in flames.
The 1-day event isn't really aimed at people like me. Only 24 of the 159 competitors in the 1-day race were women and only a handful of them were over 40. Almost all of them live in NZ and can train on the race course more often than I did. Comparing the Day 1 part of my course with the 2-day race results, I would have been leading my category by over an hour after the first day. So I think I made the right choice. I can come back to do the 2-day event another time, and I hope I do. But I'm glad I tried to "go big" this year, even though I ended up "going home".
No regrets whatsoever about the amazing 5-month adventure of preparing for and racing in C2C. It's been terrific training for anything I might do. I've become a stronger racer, improved my skills, deepened friendships and had a load of fun. I guess there is one regret... the fact that it's over now! I'll need to find a new adventure soon to keep things fun and motivating. Some ideas are brewing. Stay tuned to this space. :)