How Ingham defied death to reach the top
To the uninitiated, orienteering might seem more of a weekend hobby than a competitive sport. But Lizzie Ingham knows better than anyone that it’s not for the fainthearted.
Ingham is New Zealand’s leading female orienteer, snaring bronze at the 2013 World Cup in her hometown of Wellington – the only Kiwi to achieve that feat.
The sport has coursed through her veins since childhood, when her mother, Gillian, – a former New Zealand representative – and father Malcolm took her to a club event when she was just three days old, direct from the hospital.
Aged seven, she took part in her first race and a love affair was born.
Some 34 years later, Ingham hasn’t lost any of that early passion. She recently won the long distance, middle and sprint titles at the Oceania championships in Tasmania, punching her ticket to the world championships in Switzerland in July.
The second-place finisher in the long distance race, Australian Grace Crane, was nearly 13 minutes behind, despite being a local more accustomed to the rocky terrain.
‘‘The winning margin is flattering – she made a six-minute mistake towards the end,’’ a modest Ingham said as she reflected on her achievement.
‘‘The thing with the long distance is that it’s much more about endurance and strength, whereas the middle and the sprint is a lot about the map reading and technical detail.
‘‘I have the confidence in my physical strength at the moment that I knew that if I could push through the terrain and stay mistake-free, then I’d have a very good chance of winning.’’ That wasn’t always the case for Ingham, who after establishing herself as a force at home, soon made her name on the global circuit, earning a move to Norway via Canberra to join one of the world’s premier orienteering clubs, Halden SK.
It was while living in Scandinavia in 2017 that Ingham’s life took an unexpected turn.
Since 2011, she had been experiencing dizziness, fatigue and heavy limbs while competing, to the point where she ‘‘could stand on the start line and not know if I was going to be fine that day’’.
‘‘We did three races within the day, and in the third one I started feeling dizzy and super heavy in the arms and legs, and my vision started blacking out,’’ Ingham recalled.
‘‘That was the first time I experienced it, and from there through to 2017 it happened more and more frequently, but doctors couldn’t pin down what it was, so we went through low iron levels, asthma, and then I had it put down to anxiety and panic attacks, which we worked on for a few years.’’
But the issue was much more serious than that, and almost cost Ingham her life. While participating in the prestigious O-Ringen race in Sweden, Ingham collapsed and went into cardiac arrest as she crossed the finish line.
Fortunately, the high-profile nature of the event meant there was plenty of medical staff and defibrillators to administer CPR. Had it happened elsewhere, she might not have lived to tell the tale.
It was after reading the defibrillator report that doctors realised that Ingham had been competing all these years with a serious heart defect that went undetected from birth.
So a week-and-a-half later she found herself on the operating table in Norway, having open heart surgery. It was a success, and she has been able to compete without any problems.
‘‘It couldn’t have gone better, to be honest. I think I surprised everyone, myself included, with the recovery. As of October last year, I’ve been signed off by the doctors and I’m good to go.’’
Ingham has since returned to New Zealand where she is based in Wellington and works as a geophysicist. While she enjoyed living in Europe, being away from family and friends took its toll.
Balancing her training with work can be tricky, but she backs herself and her fellow Kiwis to foot it against the traditional European powerhouses on the world stage.
Accordingly, Ingham is targeting a top 10 finish in the 100-plus-strong field, something she has achieved once before. But even getting on the podium would be unlikely to top winning a medal on home soil: ‘‘I’m still pinching myself 10 years later’’.*