Paralympic Perspectives: Robin McKeever
March 14, 2008

Robin and Brian McKeever compete in cross-country skiing at the Salt Lake City 2002 Paralympic Winter Games. (Sebastian Schupfner/Bongarts/Getty Images)
Success in Trust by Robin
McKeever
Guiding my brother Brian for the past seven years has led to
some great times, some great races and some hilarious stories, but
it has never been easy.
The role of a guide seems rather simple — get the
athlete to the finish line as fast as possible! Simple enough,
however, this is dependent on the level of vision of the athlete
you are guiding, which presents very different challenges. For a B1
classified skier (that is, totally blind), the guide —
through verbal direction and without touching the athlete
— has to keep the athlete on an undulating race course
and away from competitors, trees, people, fences and television
cameras along the course. Greatness is only achieved through an
amazing bond of confidence between guide and athlete.
Thankfully, trust is not an obstacle for me and Brian, who is a
B3 classified skier and has around 8 per cent vision on a reading
chart. It doesn’t seem like he has much vision, but he
can make his way around a course without a guide pretty darn fast,
and at times he has left me begging for mercy and dry heaving. He
has asked me to go faster than my body would physically allow. Ah
yes, my guiding challenge is simple!
Racing as a team
My intro to guiding came at the Salt Lake IPC World Cup final in
March 2001. The day before the race, Brian and I —
skiing together for the thousandth time, but the first time racing
as an official “team” — set out
to ski the course together on an amazing, sunny spring day well
above freezing. The Paralympic course (also the Salt Lake City 2002
Paralympic Winter Games course), which consisted of a ribbon of
artificial snow through the Utah dessert, took me over one very
slushy descent and then I discovered that Brian was suddenly no
longer behind me. After waiting awhile, thinking he was just
dawdling, I went back to find only his left ski and foot visible
above the edge of the track. The rest of him was headfirst down a
steep embankment!
“Brian?” I called.
“Ah, down here,” was Brian’s
reply. “Think you can help me get back up?
I’m sort of stuck, wrapped around this tree, and it's
muddy.”
“You okay?” I asked.
“I wasn't sure at first, but I think
so,” Brian answered. “I caught my edge in
the slush when I tried to pass ‘cause you were going
too slow, and slid into this tree. If I let go of it now, I'm going
to slide head first down the hill!”
I had to take off my skis and poles and climb down into the mud
to help Brian out of there. He would be okay. Luckily, after a good
massage and a lot of pain relievers, Brian recovered and we won the
next day!
Staying ahead
Seven years ago it was easy for me to guide Brian because I was
near the peak of my racing fitness, and he is six years younger
than me. Our communication on the race course was making sure the
pace I set wasn't too high for Brian and that he was reasonably
comfortable following.
Last season, after working full-time for four years, starting a
family and training less, Brian surpassed me in physical fitness.
That’s when the communication on the race course
consisted of me wheezing a heck of a lot and him telling me to move
over ‘cause I was going too slow!
Now with a new job, coaching from the Canadian Paranordic
national cross-country ski team and having more time to train, I
have transformed back into an effective guide for Brian. There will
still be little communication in races, as I will be pretty much at
max, but we are back racing faster than ever as a team.
Paralympic Perspectives
Paralympic Perspectives is a celebration of the two-year
countdown to the Vancouver 2010 Paralympic Winter Games. This
series comprises personal stories written by Paralympians and
leaders passionate about the Games. Visit
vancouver2010.com every weekday from March 12 through March 21 for
a new story of personal triumph and fierce competition.




