 |
| Maxi road trip! |
The Maxi
Enduro! Four laps of the 160km Lake Taupo
course, starting 10:30am on Friday 28 November and finishing the next day. This was to be my 3rd Maxi and 5th
race over 500km. Each of the previous rides
had been different from the others. This
was to be very different!
The story of
this year’s Maxi really began soon after I completed April’s 1,010km Monster
Graperide. The magnitude of that race’s
impact on my body was a surprise, so I decided that this would be a year of
consolidation. Instead of upping the
ante again and doing the Taupo 8-lapper, I would stick to the 4-lap Maxi, which
I had successfully completed last year.
I’d make my preparation fun, as some mental recovery was also needed
after the training leading up to the Graperide.
I would go on club rides, spend lots of time in the hills, all with the
objective of enjoying myself and seeing if I could build some leg muscle. However,
that seemingly conservative plan soon came unstuck.
The recovery
required from the Mammoth was ... mammoth.
It took months! Club rides would
leave me exhausted, even if I stuck with the slowest rider. My heart beat even went arrhythmic after one
such ride. So I scaled things back savagely,
lost touch with my cycling buddies, and left my bike alone. Unsurprisingly, this led to a dose of
depression, which was broken by a pre-planned 6 week holiday in Europe on
family matters in July/August. The
holiday was great, but, even this long after the race, my body was still
struggling.
Good holiday, but it was very hard going back to work, so I thought I’d
up my spirits by getting back into cycling.
I got totally smashed on the first group ride and even struggled the
next week with a 2 hour ride by myself.
Only 12 weeks to Taupo! What to
do? Suddenly, the answer was blindingly
obvious. I would train for the Maxi of
course. If I wasn’t ready, I wouldn’t do
it, but at least I’d have a purpose and a challenge. Magically, the low spirits went, I decided
not to quit my job, and suddenly I was smiling.
Training started really easy, but by 9 weeks I had managed a 250km ride,
including 2 circuits of the hilly 100km Akatarawa block. The final test would be the next week, where
I would do 3 circuits of the block, a total of almost 300km hard riding. The first two laps went alright despite hot
conditions, but I was tired and downcast setting off for the third. Two kilometres into the lap, I thought
“Bugger this!” I stopped to mull things
over. Of course I could finish the 3rd
lap although it would be hard, but my heart just wasn’t in it. And this is what the Maxi would be like, with
me under-trained, just inching to the end and destroying myself in the
process. I didn’t think I had anything
to prove, so decided not to do it but work on the long-term plan of building up
the fitness base and aiming for next year’s 8-lapper. Good plan I think, but not so clever sharing
it with the world. I was surprised at
just how hard my endurance-cycling friends came down on me, and eventually
folded under the pressure. I would do
the Maxi.
Sorry for the long start to this story, but it does give you an idea of
my mind-set going into the race. But
enough introspection for the moment. Let’s
start that race!
 |
| Pre-race briefing. |
 |
| The start. |
There were more than 20 riders lining up in Taupo for the 10:30am start. The line-up included international cyclists,
including Chris (Hoppo) Hopkinson (ranked 2nd in world standings for
24-hour racing), Valerio Zamboni and his team of riders, and I detected
Australian accents as well. There were
also Kiwi stalwarts who I’d seen on previous races and some new-comers.
My plan was to start at the back, but there seemed to be competition for
that position, with other cyclists wheeling their bikes to the same place. It’s a long ride and it pays not to get
caught up with the initial enthusiasm of smashing yourself on that first 20km
to the highest point of the ride.
Suddenly, without fanfare, we were clicking into our pedals. The race had begun. As I rode down towards the bridge crossing
the Waikato River, my way was suddenly blocked by three Italian riders and I
had to brake. They were calling back to
one of their team members, who they were waiting for. Strange and somewhat discourteous, I thought,
but soon wheeled around them and worked my way up the steep hill of the No.1
highway. There’s a rather sordid story
around these riders, which I might share one day.
It’s a steep kilometre or two up the main highway before we wheel
off. I found myself with Chris Little, a
likeable English gentleman from Wellington in his (I’m guessing) early thirties. I’d met him at the registration and he’d
complimented me on my blog, which I of course love to hear. As we neared the turn-off, my good friend
Nick Dunne passed in a support van for Nick Tollemach. “Come-on pudding tits!” he yelled as he
passed.
I rode a bit with Chris, exchanging the odd word with him. After a while we caught up with Darrall
Castle, then even later joined up with Arran Pearson from Singapore. “Nice way to spend a holiday!” I remarked as
I passed him. Arran had flown in for the
weekend purely to do the race. After
some time, Neville Mercer caught up with us and every now and then we could see
Leslie White a bit in front of us.
“There’s five of us”, said
Darrall, “Why don’t we get some rotation going.
How about 2 minutes each at the front?”
“Not me”, I said, “I’m doing my own thing.” I’d found that riding in bunches in these races
always cost me, forcing me to ride harder than I wanted to. I don’t mind people drafting off me, but
always feel I’m bludging if I do the same to them. Luckily we were cresting one of the long
up-slopes of this part of the ride. I
tucked myself down on my aero-bars and gently headed off into the wind. I expected the bunch to be behind me, but
when I looked back some minutes later, they had dropped way behind. Either I had been too fast (and aero-bars are
pretty good for this!) or they had decided not to follow such a snobbish prat. Anyway, the funny thing is that, after a
while we got into the upward slopes again where I’m a lot slower, and they caught
up and rode silently past in single file.
Not a word was spoken! I was by
myself now and would not see another cyclist until the third lap!
I’d asked Helen to write a log, so that I could get another’s perspective
of how I was doing, the food I was eating, how frequently I was stopping, and
so on. I’ve included some of her
comments below in italics.
“Looking good. Very
windy.” Comment at Tihoi relay stop (approximately 40km into lap) at
12:30pm.
The wind was definitely strong.
If you think of the ride as being of roughly rectangular direction, we
were heading straight into the wind for the first bit, had it to our right on
the other side of the lake, with it chasing us up Kuretau, and to the
side again on the No. 1 highway back to Taupo.
I never thought of it as that strong, as it’s been far worse on other
races. However, when combined with rain
and low temperatures, it would take its toll!
Helen was meeting me more frequently than on previous Taupo races;
probably every hour or less. It was
usually just a quick change of the bottle, when she would also try and stuff
some food into my mouth. After some
time, she surprised me by saying, “Be more positive!” Usually I’m really sparking at this stage of
the race, sucking in all the good energy I can get to inspire and strengthen my
mind. But not this time. The ride was just something to do and get
over with as soon as I could. I had been
negative about the whole thing for a while and this had obviously carried over
to the race itself. Not a good thing! So I tried working on it. (If you’ve got a weak stomach, I’d advise you
to skip the next two sentences.) I
really love my wife and found that the thing that worked was actually looking
into her eyes and truly engaging with her at the next bottle changes. To see that love and care returned was all
powerful! Later that lap and into the
next, all further negativity would be dispelled by some pretty harsh weather conditions
that would force me to focus and in a perverse way gave me great joy. This was what endurance racing is all about!
 |
| Lap 1. |
And so I plugged on. Up the
fantastic Waihaha Hill, which is like Hatepe Hill in having its steeper bit
just before the top. Then on through the
series of large rollers towards the start of Kuretau Hill. I have no recollection of the wind along that
side of the Lake, mainly because of past experience and it was from the side, but
when heading away from the wind up Kuretau I suddenly found myself being pushed
upwards. It was definitely strong!
“Very windy, but he’s
looking good.” Comment at Kuretau relay stop (about 80km into lap) at 1:50pm.
Soon I had crested Waihi Hill and was down on the flats. Yes! Another
stage knocked off! Traffic on State Highway
1 was heavy as cyclists drove up to Taupo for the next day’s one lapper.
I had asked people in my local bike group to toot when they passed me
(or any endurance rider) and to send lots of texts. Adrian McKenzie, president of the local club,
had kindly also put this request onto the club website and Facebook page, from
which it was shared to other sites again.
And sure enough, there were lots of toots as cars went by. I tried to acknowledge everyone that I could,
waving my hand in thanks.
This is the stage that I usually really put the speed on. I’m not good with continuous sets of hills,
but I can definitely go fast when it’s flat, especially with the aid of aero-bars. Unfortunately I quickly found that my right
aero-bar arm had sunk downwards and was too uncomfortable to use. At one of the bottle swap stops past Turangi,
I asked Helen to have the Allen keys ready at the next top. It's an awkward thing to adjust, but I
needed those aero-bars working!
That was when those intermittent showers became no longer just
intermittent! It started raining. Helen had the tools out at the next
stop. “No” I called, “I’m too cold to
stop. Wait until it clears!” But it didn’t clear. The rain got harder and harder, coming in
right off the Lake and drilling into me.
I tucked myself down on the sagging aero-bars just to reduce my exposed
surface.
“Raining, raining, raining!” Comment at 3rd relay stop (about 120km into lap) at
3:20pm.
“Fricken freezing! Strong winds and very cold rain”. Comment at lakeside somewhere before Hatepe
Hill.
Finally I stopped and jumped into the car. I had to put on extra clothes. I was shivering and feeling incapacitated from
the cold. With the aid of heaters going full-bore
and warm coffee, I slowly began to warm up.
I then stripped off my top clothes, put a thick long-sleeved vest on and
a rain jacket in addition to what I was already wearing. Finally I pulled some long trousers over my
shorts and added a polyprop cap. After a
bit more warming up, I was out of the car, still shivering a bit as I rode off.
Hatepe Hill warmed me up and I stopped for a bottle change just past
the crest. Helen was chatting with a
cyclist who was riding from Wellington to Auckland on a foldable bike, stopping
off at Taupo for a loop of the Lake with the one-lappers tomorrow. I think she might have given him some hot
drink, as he also was very cold. He was
lonely as well, as it’s a long way to travel by yourself, and was enjoying a
chat. His name was Wally and he was
disappointed that he had to wear a shower jacket, as it was covering his
“Where’s Wally” shirt!
About 15km out of Taupo and with the weather calming, it was at last
time to deal with those aero-bars.
Somewhat late for all the flat bits missed! The operation went surprisingly well and I
was soon off Again. However, after
riding a bit, I suddenly realised I’d left my glasses on top of the car,
wheeling around to go back and get them.
Luckily Helen had also seen them and soon dropped them off to me.
 |
| End of lap 1. |
At last I had finished lap 1. My
time was 6:45 hours, which was 25 minutes slower than last year. Not bad considering the weather and my two
stops. It was a fast turnaround at the
sign-in, with Helen reckoning it was only 7 minutes from my arrival to my
departure, with me signing in, using the loo, and putting the shammy cream on in in that time.
Almost an hour into the second lap and I was suddenly blasted by a shower
of near hail. It drilled into me and was
so painful I eventually had to stop and turn myself away from it to protect my
face, hands, and chest. But this also
made me cold so, as the main force of it bated, I was on the bike again and
riding hard to keep warm.
“Poor Andrew. He’s looking so tired.” Comment about 1 hour into lap 2, at 6:10pm.
At the next
bottle-change stop, I was into the car again, with heaters full on and another
hot drink. This time I put on warm,
waterproof socks and a pair of water-proof, winter gloves. Helen also put a small portable speaker on
the bike, which I could use with an iPod.
I’d not used music yet this ride, being too focussed on riding and not
in the mood for merriment. But the music
did slowly begin to help, when I could hear it through the wind.
 |
| Early lap 2. |
 |
| Time for waterproof gloves and socks. Lap 2. |
 |
| Lap 2. |
“Cold but going strong.” Comment at Tihoi relay stop at 8:00pm.
Fifty
kilometres into the lap and it was time to stop to put on lights. It was almost dark now. Dusk and dawn are definitely the prettiest
parts of any ride and, even in my tired condition, moments of their glory
peeked in. Not much though!
“Doing really well. Another guy 2-5 minutes ahead”. Comment at 10:20pm at intersection with
Turangi-Taumaranui road.
“Not much rain. Andrew looking very tired.” Comment at 11:05pm at top of Waihi Hill.
“Rain again.
It wasn’t meant to rain!” Comment
at 11:20pm at Turangi.
“Andrew absolutely freezing. Took ages to warm up.” Comment at stop 20 minutes pst Turangi.
A bit past
Turangi, it was time for another stop for even more clothes. This time it was an additional long-sleeved
polyprop shirt. As I warmed up in the
car, Helen read to me all the texts of support we had received. It was wonderful to hear them and I laughed
at the cheeky ones. She had
mentioned several before but I had just not been in the mood, focussed instead
on just getting through the ride, but feeling somewhat guilty as I had
requested them. Now, however, I lapped
them up!
“Look at the
stars!” Helen said as I got back on the bike.
“Yes”, I replied automatically, but then looked. Between the shower clouds skittling by, you
could see the dark night sky with bright vibrant, piercing shafts of white
light. They were beautiful. Sadly I only noticed them a couple of times
that night, but they were indeed precious.
The problem
with being on the State Highway is the traffic.
All through the night, trucks and convoys of trucks whizzed by. It meant for very careful riding, as the
judder line at the side of the road often forced me on to a narrow strip of
tarmac that was hard to see.
Finally I
was over Hatepe hill for a second time, stopping at the top to change over one
of the light’s rechargeable batteries.
Only a short way to the end of the second lap now!
“Andrew is really struggling. Tired and cold”. Comment at 1:00am.
One thing I
had been really curious about the race this time was how my lower level of
fitness would fare against the considerably increased experience I’d gained
since last year’s race. Experience
brought three additional lessons. First,
not to get carried away driving up hills or into the wind. I’d always known this intellectually but
hadn’t managed to put it into actual practice until the Graperide. It’s average speed that counts, not speed
over any particular section. Second, I
need more nutrition than I’ve taken in previous Maxi Enduros. Third, time off the bike costs! There was also a fourth – don’t think, just
turn those pedals; you’ll be amazed at what you can achieve! Unfortunately, the weather added an
additional factor that made all comparison invalid. Experience may well have won out in better
conditions, but I was facing an uphill battle this time around.
 |
| End of lap 2. |
At the end
of lap 2, there was no quick turnaround.
After signing in, I hopped into the car to have some hot drink and try
and warm up. I was really tired, so even
tried to sleep, but to no avail.
Finally, 20 minutes after arriving, I was off.
About 30-60 minutes into the lap, I was overtaken by three individual riders. I wasn’t
sure whether I’d been lapped or whether they were on the same lap as me and had
just stopped and showered in Taupo before continuing. My guess (correctly) was that they were the
latter.
I find these
up-hill bits hard, especially this far into the race. The first of the following comments refers to
the fact that I know that Helen hates seeing me physically destroy myself in
front of her, and I knew that this was what was happening. But there are ups as well as downs, hence the
second comment.
“Andrew keeps apologizing for doing
this.” Comment at Kinlock turnoff.
Andrew looking really good. Just rushed past me!” Comment at Marota Rd turnoff, 4:20am.
One thing
that I was finding unusual in this race was just how sleepy I was feeling. Sleepiness had not been an issue
previously. Even at the Graperide, I
only needed a 15 minute sleep just before dawn after a second night of continuous
riding. The reason this time was, I
think, the fatigue brought on by coldness.
Sleep is something you should ideally avoid in anything but a multi-day
ride. It not only means time off the
bike, I’ve also known people who haven’t managed to start again on waking up. Come on Andrew, hold on! My hope was that the coming of dawn would
drive the sleepiness away, but early light was soon beginning to fill the
skies. I needed a rest!
Finally I
was with Helen at the Tihoi interchange for the third time. “I need to sleep!” I said as I hopped into
the car. “Have some food first”, she
responded, so I slowly munched through something or other. I then sat with my head resting on a blanket
propped up against the window and was immediately asleep. Fifteen minutes later I was suddenly awake. Yes! I
was ready to continue and feeling much better!
When I got
into the car, I had noticed a person going into the big tent at the relay
change. I had thought it was one of the
officials doing some early preparations for the day’s one-day event, but it proved
to be another Maxi Enduro rider. When I
woke up, I found him on his bike and coming over to join me. He was Leslie White and I was to ride with
him for much of the next 50 kilometres.
He was a nice, cheerful guy, stronger than me but I think enjoying some
extra company.
Before I took off, I had to take a leak. Then Leslie and I rode off together. It was still very early dawn and the sky was
beautiful. I quickly found Leslie to be
a lot stronger than me. He would easily
cycle away from me on any upwards slopes, but I would catch him up whenever I
went down on the aero-bars. On the
downwards slopes when I’d surge ahead on those bars, he’d tuck in nicely behind
me and keep up. We chatted a bit and I
found he had a great dry sense of humour.
One of the times when he was waiting with Helen for me to catch up, he
asked her, “Remind me again why I’m doing this?” “Because you love cycling!” she replied.
 |
| Early morning. Lap 3. |
While riding
up Waihaha Hill together, I joked that this hill felt like I was going up in a
higher and higher gear each time. “You’re
riding in your big sprocket”, he said. I
thought he was joking too, so laughed (well sort of laughed). As we breached the hill and started the
downhill slope, I looked down and, sure enough, I really had been in the big
sprocket!
“He’s looking absolutely knackered!” Comment 70km into lap 3, at 7:15am.
Strangely
enough, I wasn’t really enjoying riding with Leslie. Really nice guy, but I felt in a bit of a
private hell-hole. I was exhausted and
wanted to get into a good mental zone and just plug on. But I would be distracted with Leslie slowly
moving away from me, only to have him wait at a top of a hill for me to catch
up. Eventually his wife came to support
him. He’d told her to go back to the
motel to rest, but she hadn’t managed to sleep. He stopped a while, I think getting clothes
and refreshments, and I ploughed on by myself.
Food was
also something I was having trouble with now.
Hammer Perpeteum is my nutrition base on these long rides, but it is
important not to have too much of it if.
Doing so risks bloating and nausea, which is exactly what was happening
with me now. Yet I still needed the
food. I reduced my intake from 2 sips
every 20 minutes to 1 sip, hoping that this was not too short.
At last I
was on to the Turangi-Taumaranui highway and making my way up Kuretau Hill. There was a lot of activity on Kuretau now,
with spectators getting ready for the elite racers to come through. As you can imagine, with my official pink
helmet cap proudly claiming that I was doing 640km, I got lots of cheers. “Well done!”
“You’re amazing!” I definitely didn’t
feel amazing. I felt really done in as I
struggled past the crowds. I also felt a
bit of a con, as I was only on my third lap.
I was definitely no champion. But
I still accepted the praise that would continue to be shouted my way for the
rest of the lap. I knew I was in a place
that few others were.
As I charged
down Waihi Hill towards the flats, the racers seemed imminent. People had been craning their necks expectantly
and various officials were huddled in chairs along the course, presumably waiting
to pounce on any overly dangerous behaviour and call in help if any accidents.
I don’t know
when it happened, but as I rolled along to the main state highway, I realised
that I’d already decided that I’d probably not be doing the fourth lap. This came as a surprise. Soon after I’d joined with Leslie , he'd asked me if I was going to finish the event. There
had been no doubt at that stage! But I
was now feeling so physically beaten up, I just did not want to grind myself
more into the ground. It just didn’t
seem worth it.
But, no
matter what that decision, I knew I wanted to pause soon and just enjoy holding
a coffee in my hands and not riding for a while. How to arrange this with Helen? Thank goodness, there she was, at the coffee
kiosk just before the Turangi bridge. As
I rolled into the car park, who should also be there but Leslie and his wife,
sitting relaxing by the kiosk with their coffee. The last time I saw Leslie was when he rode
past me while I was having a leak by the side of the road. Our ride together both began and ended with me
taking a leak – leaky man syndrome!
“He looks like a 75 year-old and was even swearing a wee bit.” Comment at Turangi at 9:30am.
I would have
loved to stay with them and chat, but I was shattered. I just wanted to get into the car and
die. The coffee was hot so it took a
while to drink. I felt in heaven and
just lay back in the driver’s seat, thinking of nothing. Soon however, it was time to go. “Mumble mumble fuck mumble mumble
mumble.” “What was that?” asked
Helen. “Nothing”, I replied. I had decided no swearing on the race, as you
need to do everything to keep your mind positive. It seemed I'd slipped up at least once! “Can’t you just drive me to the end and be
done with it?” I asked, knowing that the answer would be no, but it was still a
nice dream. “Just finish the lap and
we’ll see how you are then!”
 |
| Rest at Turangi. Lap 3. |
By now the
elites had raced past. One thing I
enjoyed hugely about this last leg of my race was seeing so many stages of the
one-lap race pass me as I limped back to Taupo.
I especially loved seeing the front bunches, with their athleticism,
fitness, and mental toughness. The
bunches were living things, pulsating and continually changing shape, as groups
surged and consolidated, with riders continually battling to make or bridge
gaps. It was very exciting.
I had
definitely made up my mind that lap 3 would be it. There would be no lap 4 this time
around. More than any time before, I
just wanted to sleep. I was also sore
all over. Wet pants from the rain meant
that saddle sores had started far sooner than they should have, which made the
aero-bars hard work. But riding on the
top bars were also painful on my wrists, which were quite swollen by now – I
think the result of holding on too tight as I blasted through the wind and rain
of the early parts of the ride, trying to keep warm.
Suddenly, from
the midst of one of the first big groups, I heard someone call out, “Andrew!” From the next group, Mike Proudfoot yelled
“Go Andrew!” My slow mind began to
creak. Should I really quit? A lot of people had a lot of faith in
me. It would be so nice to repay that
faith. I just had to slog it around one
more time. Victory would be all that
more sweet, as it would be the hardest thing I’d ever done. I kept these thoughts alive, teasing and
testing myself with them. Were they
sufficient to make me change my mind? In
the end they weren’t. The drive just
wasn’t there. I still remember the long
recovery from the Graperide. And I’d already
completed the Maxi, hadn’t I? It just
didn’t seem worth it.
 |
| Lap 3, SHI |
 |
| Topping Hatepe Hill. Lap 3. |
 |
| Limping in. Near end of lap 3. |
As I limped
up Hatepe Hill and rode the final kilometres to the end, the nature of the
riders was changing, as was the franticness of their pace. All were passing me though. The last bit of the ride was absolutely joyless. There was no nearing finishing line to drive
me through the pain. I just cycled on,
standing up on the pedals every now and then, and even coasting down some of
the hills. Finally, I was around the
corner and riding up to the Caltex Station where we had to sign in. I held up three fingers as I rode up to
Helen. Three laps … and that was all I
was going to do!
We then went
to the holiday house we’d leased. Helen
wouldn’t let me pull out just yet, at least not until I’d had a shower, some
food, and time to consider. I even had a
little sleep. Then she and Iain Clarke,
who arrived shortly afterwards, kept on pushing me to go on. “I don’t want you to regret it!” said
Helen. But there was no changing my
mind. I even refused to talk to Nick
Dunne when he rang to encourage me, as I didn’t want to have to face
another wave of argument and coaxing.
So that was it - my experience of the 2014 Maxi. Not exactly a glamour run! I'm sure I would have made it if the weather wasn't so bad, but that's not how life is. I'm glad it was tough. Life is tough and who am I to have things handed to me on a platter.
I believe this to be my first long-distance cycling DNF. Actually, I had one at the same event two years ago, but I conveniently don't count that as I sincerely thought I was in the early stages of a heart attack when I quit that race. But this was definitely one, no excuses! I know that I could have finished the fourth lap, but I made the decision that I didn't want to. I just wasn't ready to destroy my body even more and be faced with that much longer recovery. To take this story back to where I started, perhaps a DNF was no surprise given my limited amount of training and negativity leading into the race. I just didn't want a win (a finish) badly enough.
So where does that leave me now? Probably where I was at the start - trying to work out where to go with this endurance cycling lark. There is definitely a lot that I love about the sport. However, it's a strange sport that involves driving yourself to the point of exhaustion and beyond and taking months to recover from. One answer is of course that I need to be fitter, but I have to achieve this without taking too much time away from Helen. I also need something to really fire my passion. Breaking myself on yet another Maxi Enduro is probably not the answer. Watch this space!
 |
| 25 and a half hours before! |
