Supercoach back in N.Z. corner

Press, 22 November 1989, Page 34

Supercoach back in N.Z. corner

By

BOB SOUTH

Early this year, 72-year-old Arthur Lydiard went on a shopping spree with the Auckland Commonwealth Games in mind.

The results of his binge sit neatly, if rather prominently, upstairs in his luxurious natural-wood Beachlands home, designed by late Finnish wife, Eira. Near a feature window through which Lydiard can nearly touch Shelly Bay is a television set that stands two metres high and has a metre-wide screen. To its left, hidden in one comer behind the sofa, is a smallish fridge. And, most strategically placed of all, is Lydiard’s favourite chair — as much a target for the warm morning sun that streams in from the east as a prime viewing position for the minicinema only four metres away. “I had plans to watch the Games in style for once,” says Lydiard. “I picked up this $9OOO TV and purchased the fridge to chill my six-packs.

“I was all set up to watch the action — beer

at my side, just perched there, enjoyment. “Of course, you know what is going to happen now. I’ll be sitting out the back, or under the grandstand, nursing some nervous athlete, hearing the roar of the crowd, but unable to see a bloody thing.”

Although he mightn’t sound it, Lydiard is delighted about the prospect of trading living-room luxury for coaching and counselling our finest competitors. And this elation is much better disguised than his surprise. “I couldn’t believe I was wanted,” says the man who in the 1960 s revolutionised training techniques for distance runners.

“I was shocked to be asked to help. But anyway, that’s OK. If I can have some input, I’m happy to be there.” Lydiard, of course, heads the list of those reputable coaches neglected by New Zealand — for whatever reasons —

who, instead, were extensively used by all and sundry overseas.

As everyone who’s anyone knows, Lydiard has coached in Europe, Mexico, the United States, Japan, the world. Five books, written with a journalist, Garth Gilmour, have been released round the globe in languages as varied as Russian, German, Danish, Finnish, Japanese, and naturally, English, all revealing Lydiard’s secrets to distance training and racing.

His philosophies remain as applicable today as they were in the heydays of Peter Snell, John Davies and Murray Halberg. Sadly, though, Lydiard, and his methods, were never exploited enough by New Zealand in the post-Snell years. Last March, when the top track coaches unanimously decided to lure Lydiard back to the national coaching ranks, they essentially were admitting past mistakes as well as acknowledging that even a Lydiard decades from his prime remains invaluable to the

sport. He was appointed one of two national middle distance and distance coaches (Barry Milne is the other) and, as importantly, one of two New Zealand coaches for distance runners at the 1990 Games.

Bluntly, Arthur is back where he belongs — in New Zealand’s corner. “They want me to use my influence to inspire and advise younger coaches and aspiring athletes,” said Lydiard. “I’m not coaching anyone specifically for the Games. I’m here to help get us back on track. The reason we no longer succeed as we did in middle distance and distance running isn’t because we aren’t good enough. It’s because athletes do only half the training they should and even that isn’t balanced.”

Lydiard theories that were strengthened by repeated trial and error years ago, and have often reaped rewards since, took a back seat to newer methods in the late 70s

and early 80s which purportedly allowed athletes to succeed on halved workloads.

Lydiard believes many round the world discarded his proven, traditional methods, which focused on extensive aerobic training, and wrongly reverted to anaerobic training emphasis when Seb Coe began winning. “One of the problems of modem distance training has been the myth surrounding Coe and his schedule,” says Lydiard. “When he began winning, it came out in some paper that he raced on only 40 miles training a week. That is a lie of course. But everyone started saying ‘if Seb can do it on 40 and not 100, why can’t we?’

“We were sucked in by all this and that’s why we haven’t produced lately. Here we’ve been overemphasising running anaerobically — on the track against a watch — instead of putting in the miles over hills and hollows.”

Lydiard is now trying to get New Zealand athletics to readopt his way, the one requiring a solid conditioning base linked with a delicate balance of aerobic, anaerobic, and speed development. His message to modem athletes is the same as it was to Snell and Co. Get the conditioning base correct — “the secret is to be able to run, run, run and not get tired — then understand how to evaluate training.” “Without much planning, the Africans are doing what I’ve always preached,” says Lydiard. “They run from childhood, doing plenty of aerobic development to build high oxygen uptake levels, working on endurance.

“The Kenyans, as examples, don’t have any money, yet they keep producing the best. You don’t see them with scientific laboratories testing their athletes, taking blood tests, putting thermometers up athletes’ backsides.

Lydiard has no magic wand to wave to produce medals at the Games. He

cautions that it took Halberg seven years under his tuition to crack an Olympic gold. While some of our athletes could surprise in Auckland, not least in the women’s 3000 m, 10,000 m and marathon, Kiwis should be patient and not expect real glory until the Barcelona Olympics in 1992. As he accepts this latest, belated, and very unexpected opportunity to preach his methods again in his own country. The only major dilemma Lydiard faces is dealing with the painful loneliness he daily endures following the death from cancer four and a half years ago of his 45-year-old wife. A much more lighthearted and minor problem puzzles the aging, still great mentor, too. What to do with a giant TV and nifty fridge that next February will be idle and empty respectively? Lydiard can and will be lonely all he wants. But never again will he be lost to a sport that now not only needs him, but has him.

Welcome back, Arthur.