SPORT ‘A couple years ago, one of our racers had a tremendous bike crash and broke the fork off his frame,” says Robin Judkins. “Another mate offered him his bike because he’d already run the race before. That’s pretty typical for us.” Who knew adventure racing could be so civil? But, then, who knows anything about the Coast to Coast, an extreme Actually, the Coast to Coast’s relative obscurity suits Judkins, a 48-year-old college-dropout-turned-heli-skier, just fine. In fact, when he organized his first interdisciplinary race in 1980 鈥 a slapdash affair in which a few willing souls helicoptered to a snowy summit and skied, ran, and kayaked back to civilization 鈥 he didn’t know that he was among the first For Judkins, outrageous entails an imaginative buffet of physical suffering: 18 miles of running, 89 miles of cycling, and 42 miles of kayaking. Throw in 2,500 feet of vertical gain in the Southern Alps traverse, upwards of 50 boulder-strewn river crossings, and one 250-foot-deep river gorge, and the result is grueling by any standard. (Winners finish in about 11 hours, Still, if the Coast to Coast remains something of a backwater on the international multisport circuit, it’s likely because Judkins’s race is, well, different. Take the Good Samaritan rule, for example, which prohibits passing a competitor in need and doesn’t compensate for lost time. Also, unlike the Eco-Challenge and the Raid, most racers compete as individuals rather than as So when the Coast to Coast kicks off on the sixth of this month, most big-name athletes may be absent, but so will the overbearing competitiveness. “The point is not to go until you collapse,” says Judkins. “It’s to have some bloody fun.” |
In one adventure race, manners come first and butt-kicking a distant second
New perk: Easily find new routes and hidden gems, upcoming running events, and more near you. Your weekly Local Running Newsletter has everything you need to lace up! .