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I need a goal

Date: 23 May
Distance: 26km
Time: 4:06

Ever since the new highway (Te Ahu a Turanga: Manawatū Tararua Highway) openend in June 2025 linking Ashhurst with Woodville on the other side of the Tararua Range, we’ve been wanting to cross over by foot on the shared path next to the highway. We have done a number of outings, walking up the hill for 5km, turn around, and jog back down. I have been curious about what the rest of the path looks like.

But let me backtrack a little. I may have mentioned this before, but since COVID we have ‘cooled off’ somewhat regarding our running and participation in events. We did, however, manage to always keep on trucking in one form or another, mostly just a 4km trot down the road a few times a week. This meant we could ramp up the mileage somewhat to complete the odd marathon or half marathon over the last six years. It didn’t feel like we had any real goals or going anywhere with our running. I did toy with the idea of doing a 100 miler a couple of times, but it didn’t stick. Winter and Spring would be difficult to train due to lots of unpleasant weather, and come Summer it would be too late. Unless I set myself a lofty goal and really mean it, I have no chance of even getting somewhat fitter. So, I’m back to toying with that 100 miles idea. About a month ago we even drew up a broad sort of training plan with interim goals to get us there.

Let’s see how long this one lasts.

As part of the plan, we decided to fit in a long walk to see how our bodies would handle it. Of course walking is a different ‘sport’ to running, which is why lots of runners really slow down in the second half of very long events (and I count myself amongst them) simply because they haven’t trained enough to walk. Especially for extended periods. Who has the time! I know for a fact that if I was to attempt a 100km or 100 mile event again, there will be heaps of walking. So we made provisions for walking in our ‘programme’.

Starting on the Ashhurst side, we parked at the Gorge Quarter carpark late Saturday morning for our long walk. The weather could not have been more perfect. We collected our things, something warm for the crossing at the top, some sustenance and water, and then we were off. Perhaps because we started reasonably late (10:30), there weren’t heaps of people on the path as usual. Lots of cars in the carpark though, so they must have been somewhere (the gorge, the 3km loop on the other side, who knows).

The first few hundred metres are flattish. This is followed by a steep incline that just gets steeper as the kilometres pass. After about 3km you reach the tops which is an undulating stretch of about 3km across the mountain range. This is usually where a very cold wind blows as you are quite exposed in the ‘funnel’ that was created when parts of the mountain were carved out for the road. Though it was on the cool side, this was the first time I didn’t feel the temperature dropping significantly while there. 

After 5.5km going into the traffic you cross underneath the highway to walk on the other side of the road going with the traffic for 5km, before crossing back for the final stretch. At the bottom of the mountain is a traffic circle, but we opted to walk all the way to the toilets next to the i-Site which added another 1.7km one way, to our trip. Since there are no toilets on the path, this is almost compulsory, and also a place to top up our water bottle. Unfortunately for us (great for users of the toilets), the water in the toilets was warm. We searched the area and luckily spotted a tap outside the i-Site (which was closed over lunchtime) to fill up our water bottle. 

It took just under two hours to reach the toilets, and I secretly hoped we could do the same going back and finish in under four hours. My feet and legs were already quite sore, so this was going to be unlikely, but one can hope. On top of that, we wasted time searching for water so the prospect became even less likely. Nonetheless, I was still going to try and go as fast as I can, hopeful. Going uphill from the Woodville side is more gradual, but relentless with no breathers for 4km. I was very sore by then, had blisters on my feet, and it started to became a reality that I might not be able to move the next few days. But we kept going at a reasonable clip, crossed over the mountain, and before long we were on the steep downhill stretch looking at the carpark in a distance. I was very happy that we made it to the coffee shop just before it closed, for coffee and an ice cream to share (fig and honey flavour). Unfortunately we didn’t make the four hour target, but went over by six minutes.

Regarding the blisters … I’ve been struggling to find road shoes from Altra that doesn’t feel like they changed the fit slightly. Yes, the toebox is still wide, but it feels flatter and therefore less roomy than before. Is it my imagination? This applies to a reasonably new pair of Altra Torin. Since I wasn’t 100% comfortable with them, I also bought the Altra FWD Via online which has more cushioning which I thought would be handy for long on-road walk-jogs. Unfortunately yet again, these felt flatter in the toe-box area that made the fit more snug despite it being wide (which I may add feels in any case slightly less wide and roomy than any of the Altras I had before). Maybe my foot shape changed from not running much! The FWD Via also has seams on the heel near the arch of the foot on the inside. The day before this walk, I decided to take them for a spin on a 6km outing. Just as well I did, as after a km I could feel a hotspot coming, and by 4km I had to take them off as the hotspots turned into full blown blisters on both feet. I walked more than a kilometre on my socks before putting them back on for the final bit back to the car. I was very annoyed as these seemed like the perfect solution for what I needed.

Later that evening I drained the blisters and hoped for the best for our long walk the next day. Trying on old pairs of shoes in the morning, I opted to use a pair of Torin of which the bulk of the outer sole was missing already. It must be six years old. But it felt soft and I didn’t think it would aggravate my blisters. However, after a while I could feet the drained blisters filling up again. It wasn’t from chafing so much as it was from fluid retention and swollen feet. We made it back to the car just in time before it became super sore. I walked to the loo half cripple, but looked worse for wear walking to the coffee shop. After we sat for a bit and had our coffee, walking again was not fun. 

After a nice warm shower I drained the blisters again which, it turned out, was actually blisters upon blisters. 

Even though we have this beautiful path specifically for walking, running, cycling, it is very noisy from the constant stream of vehicles and too close to the traffic for my liking. I keep thinking what if someone looks at their phone and drives off the road? And flips over the wires that forms the barrier between vehicles and pedestrians? I noticed a good few spots along the road where vehicles have crashed and went into the wires. Plus there are a lot of trucks using that road. And of course some people seem to go as fast as their cars are capable of just for laughs. 

But I guess it is pointless to think about the worst case scenario, and as my mum always reminded me – a miss is as good as a mile. 

The path itself is really quite pretty and a lot of effort went onto making it. All along the way trees and grasses were planted and mulched, with lots of little ponds along the way. There’s a viewpoint and rest area for cars on both sides, and a few other viewpoints for pedestrians along the way. On a good day you can see Mt Taranaki, Mt Ruapehu, and across the Manawatū and Wairarapa. The cafe at the bottom and the fact that lots of people make use of recreational area makes it quite sociable, so we keep going back, despite the fact that is sits right next to a very busy highway.

Next time we will have to see if we can break 4 hours walking on this route. 

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Jumbo-Holdsworth walk

23 March

As I rolled out of bed barely capable to pull myself upright, I thought about our walk in the Tararua on Monday and how tough and resilient one’s body actually is. As cliched as it might sound, it always amazes me at what one can achieve if you put your mind to it. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Okay I’ll stop with the cliches for now. 

For a long while we’ve been talking about a walk in the mountains. We haven’t done it in such a long time, and our annual week-long trip over Christmas or New Year also hasn’t happen in a few years. Mainly because of bad weather, but perhaps also just exhaustion by that time of the year. Which is exactly when one should go saunter in the mountains!

With my mum passing away last year, and our trip back to the motherland recently to sort out her things and our affairs there, we were again caught up in ‘life’ and not paying attention to what we really needed. We knew we needed a walk in the mountains, so last week we made the decision to just go do it. At first it was going to be an overnighter, but again, with other commitments and deadlines (oh, how I dread these words) we scaled down to a one-day hike. Of course then one could go anywhere, but we finally decided to do the Jumbo-Holdsworth circuit again. And just as well, as my original plan was to walk to Syme Hut and spent a night there. Unfortunately someone had died on Mt Taranaki at the weekend and a rahui was in place until Monday, meaning we would not have been able to walk there anyway, out of respect for the dead and the mountain.

The last time, we did the Jumbo-Holdsworth circuit as the trail running event, which was eight years ago. Since then, we’ve marshalled at the event a couple of times at Holdsworth peak, and once at Powell Hut, always using the Gentle Annie track to and fro. Including trips to Powell Hut with friends on other occasions, we know that part of the trail very well. 

On Saturday we went shopping for sustenance to do the whole loop on Sunday. But alas, another deadline (tax of all things) meant we were still busy late on Saturday night, and hadn’t packed yet. Fortunately Gerry had leave on Monday so this was going to be the day. Forgive me for feeling like we might ‘bail out’ again, as at that point we had given up on so many events that I would almost be surprised if we did go ahead with it. But luckily we did. Sunday morning first thing, we packed our backpacks, incase something gets in the way again. Being aware of how bad NZ weather can be in the mountains, especially on the peaks, I always pack a bit on the cautious side. Not for when you can still move, but for if something happens and you can’t move. First to go in is always the PLB and a space-blanket type bivvy. I’m also a firm believer in something hot, so our teeny tiny little camp stove with a small gasbottle is also priority. And then come the thermals and down jackets, coupled with wind and rainproof gear (does the latter even really exist?), and of course food. Sometimes I would also throw in the small tent, but according to all the weather predictions, it was going to be a lovely day; sunny, on the cool side (13 degrees at the hottest time), and almost no wind. Sounded too good to be true. Luckily the forecast was spot-on.

Monday morning at sparrow’s fart we were out of bed, Gerry prepared our yogurt, fruit, seed, and muesli breakfast, made a thermos with coffee for the road, and we were on our way. I had my reservations about walking 24km with the reasonably heavy pack over some of the highest peaks in the Tararua, but figured if things go pear-shaped, we can always just turn around and call it quits. But if we made Jumbo Hut in good time still being able to move, and the tops look good weather wise, we would dash over, and then worry about the way down at that point. We even packed headlamps incase. 

With lots of roadworks between us and Masterton, the trip took a wee bit longer than I thought. Also, we got away a bit later than planned. Nonetheless, just before 8am we had a few cups of coffee, breakfast, made a loo stop, signed the intentions book, and could finally start walking. 

Being fresh and just happy to be there, we walked at a reasonable clip. The track was easy and flattish, so we thought we could make up time. We knew that ‘Raingauge’ was an approximately 3km nightmare of an uphill to Jumbo Hut, so tried to do the first 7km to Atiwhakatu Hut in good time. I vaguely remember some of it from our trail run stint through there, but Donnolly’s Flat I wiped from my memory. It is a lovely camping area amongst the trees with fire places, the stream nearly, and longdrops, not far from the car. It would be perfect for people with young kids. 

We followed the Whakatūrākau Stream on our right, crossing numerous little side streams on foot bridges. To the tune of the rumbling water we walked in the forest hearing the song of happy birds and cicadas. A trapline was established along the path, and all the traps were sqeeky clean. The trapper servicing this trapline would have a walk in the park. 

After we reached Atiwhakatu Hut, the track splits off to the Raingauge Spur and Jumbo Hut. Although it is only 2.8km it has a stupidly steep elevation gain of about 850 metres. Each step is knee high and sometimes higher at my length. At some point I noticed to Gerry that I’m very close to the ground. Obviously because with the steepness it felt like the ground was right in front of me, and on occasion I had to drag myself up over tree roots and rocks on all fours. This was very hard on my legs and I knew that I would suffer later on. As we went higher up, the birdlife became less until I could hear no birds at all, and eventually only flies and blowflies.

We reached Jumbo Hut a bit after eleven, and stopped for elevensies – coffee with rusks (which I hastily baked on Friday and dried overnight), a handful of nuts and a liquorice toffee to chew on on our way. Something else I found surprising was the vast number of white butterflies (the kind that ruins one’s vege garden) at the tree line. 

Just before 12pm we were scaling another steep incline to Jumbo Peak. And if you have any thoughts of the ridge being ‘flat’, or even undulating, think again. It is constantly up and down. We did a tonne of steep climbs in the short (5km?) section on the tops, which took about two hours to do. My legs were jelly by then, but I was very happy to be at the Holdsworth Trig. I knew that even if the weather turned to custard, we would be okay. Powell hut was less than 2km away and the track to there is doable even in reasonably strong wind. There’s just one section next to a slip that is a bit dodgy in wind, but for the most part there is no issues.

For the first time all day we encountered some other trampers on the ridge. First two guys who were sitting on a stoney knob when we were passing just below them in a boggy area, followed by another pair of guys, and shortly afterwards a couple on our way up the final steep climb to the trig.

By then the light breeze at the top was a wee bit more than a light breeze, but still really nothing to write home about. It was still sunny and warm enough to walk with a T-shirt (two layered in my case). We made our way down to Powell hut at about 2pm, and found three ladies there, two of whom were sunbathing on the porch. We boiled our kettle for a cup-o-soup, when another solo guy arrived to stay at the hut. Together with the tomato soup we had biltong, corn cakes with Vegemite and Laughing Cow processed cheese. The latter probably being the most hideous of all snacks, but for some reason the thing we always have on hikes. Some nuts and more liquorice toffees and we were ready to start walking down the mountain. We filled half of my water bottle with an electrolyte, to have with our other in-between snacks (dates, marshmallows, Frooze balls). If there’s one thing I’ve learned the past twelve or so years, it is that any ‘endurance sport’ is in fact an eating contest. Keep feeding the beast and it will do anything you tell it to. Haha.

The first bit is a super steep downhill. In previous years, it was a bit of the scramble to get up or down. Maintenance on the track (maybe due to the running event sending hundreds of people around the loop?) has made if far easier to go down/up on stairs, and is also good for the environment. As much as I like a natural incline or decline, lots of foot traffic quickly tramples the ground. And if it happens to be a wet patch, the area being trampled just gets wider and wider. But calling it easy, is a bit generous. These steps (and there were plenty new ones) are huge, and on terribly sore jelly-legs it is tough going. At some point I thought my legs were seizing up; my locked knee would not unlock in time to take the next step! It was agony, but we made it to Mountain Shelter in good time, before following the last (always longer than expected) bit of the track on Gentle Annie, past the Rocky Lookout. The whole track was filled with course gravel, and more new stairs were built to make the trail more accessible. I listened to the crunch of the gravel under my shoes, and thought to myself that there aren’t a lot of trails where you can hear the crunch of your boots as your walk in NZ, or perhaps rather the North Island. Usually it is sloshing and suckling of shoes being swallowed by mud. The sound of my shoes made me think of my birth country where the semi-arid environment usually involved crunching boots on trails. And this made me think of my mother, wondering if she’s watching us.

Back at the car, we put on some dry clothes for the trip home. I was very sore, but very happy. Surprised and delighted at the fact that I managed to walk up and over the mountains with an elevation gain and loss of around 1500m over 24km without any incidents. So many things could have happened, but as my mother always reminded me, a miss is as good as a mile. 

Although it’s been 17 months since we last covered 20+ kilometres by foot (something that weighed heavily on my mind the night before our outing), I’m all keen to start doing this more often again. I miss the suffering – the very thing that makes me feel human and alive. And capable. Getting older is tough as it is, I want to try and postpone the ‘incapable’ part as long as possible.

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Mentors Country Estate parkrun

Date: 7 March 2026
Distance: 5km
Time: 37min

During the flight from OR Tambo to Hong Kong with my mother’s ashes in the overhead locker, I reflected on our three week trip to the motherland. It was tough.

My mother passed away on 3 October last year at the age of 87. For the past 16 years she lived in a house we owned. Being so far away it was the best we could do to try and help her. Fortunately I still have an older brother and sister who could be more hands-on with the day-to-day needs. Providing her with a place to stay may well be a subconscious way to ease the guilt of us moving so far away.

The past number of years she became increasingly frail. On and off she stayed with my brother 700km away, and the past more than a year, she was with him all the time. 

Even though our house stood empty for the best part of two years, nothing happened; no squatters, no burglaries, no vandalism. We all needed some time to process the death of our mother, so thought we can just carry on with business as usual until July when we planned to go over and start sorting out her things. Unfortunately this all changed on Christmas eve when all the outside copper pipes were stolen from the house. This was followed by another event where the copper wire leading to, and inside my mum’s pottery kiln was severely damaged and stolen. The other issue was that my brother was still paying the rates&taxes on the property (to keep the power on for the alarm to work), which was really just a waste of money. We had to do something urgently.

We quickly made travel arrangements and by mid-February we were on our way, this time flying via Hong Kong. The quickest route, and the one we’ve taken the past five or six times, is through Australia. But we’ve never had much joy with Qantas, and the last time was a nightmare to put it mildly. Every trip without fail, our luggage stayed behind in Australia (the connecting flight allows too short a turnover time), the food deteriorated with each trip, and arriving back in Wellington at 1am is just plain nasty. On top of it all, the shuttle bus to long-term parking in Wellington didn’t run during the night, and we had to walk the 2km in the middle of the night. Luckily that changed a few years ago.

This time after four flights we arrived tired, but without any serious issues, and immediately set to work. With the help of my brother we spent the first week chasing copper pipes into the bricks and mortar. Gerry did most tof the hammering, my brother the copper pipe soldering, and I finished off plastering and filling up gaps. After four days, we had water in the house again, and could start with the clean up.

In short, we had to go through and clear out all my mum’s things. Eighty-seven years worth of belongings which she meticulously saved and looked after. I was keen on some fabric and yarn to use in an upcoming exhibition about the circle of life and death, but couldn’t take much as we only had two suitcases with a limit of 23kg each. The one thing mum said I could have was two 1930s rocking chairs, but short of paying a fortune to get it to New Zealand, I had to let it go.

Most of her things ended up donated to charity, a handful of things were sold, and the rest went to recycling and the rubbish dump. Such a sad and terrible thing to have to do. I discovered mum’s wedding album, grandma’s birth and death certificates, granddad’s identity document, and the list goes on. Just sad.

With no good reason to keep the house any longer, we were also keen to try and sell the property. I fashioned a hand made ‘for sale’ sign which we stuck on the gate. In case. Agents came around, potential buyers started walking through while the place was in shambles. Stuff everywhere, tools, cement, paint, coupled with a house that wasn’t lived in for more than a year, it looked terrible. One of the people popping in to look around, brought his wife a couple of days later to have a look, and another few days on they brought their daughter. The place needed a lot of work, the garden was in shambles, but it was still a decent sized plot, with two separate dwellings; one the main house, and the other a studio. It has a lot of potential. But beggars can’t be choosers, and we had to let it go for far less than what we might have been able to sell it for if we had the time to get things in better order. But time was a luxury we didn’t have, nor the money and ended up just being relieved to have a buyer.

The end of an era. A heartbreaking experience.

Before we left from NZ I had grand plans to go for walks on the beach with my sister and brother, but the only thing we did was work. From sun up to late every day, work. Luckily my brother could get leave, and with my sister on pension, we spent the evenings together. During the days we worked together.

Our last Saturday morning in SA we decided to treat ourselves to a quick parkrun. I didn’t have running clothes so thought I’d just walk. Working with dusty and old documents meant that hay fever was a constant struggle for me and I ended up taking far more antihistamines than I would have liked, which didn’t help my cause. Getting some fresh air was much needed, and to celebrate the ‘offer to purchase’ that was signed the day before, we went for it.

During the night the wind picked up. It was blowing a gale and the noise from the trees and corrugated iron rattling meant I was awake a lot of the time. We got up, had red bush tea and a pear before driving to Mentors Country Estate about five minutes away. It was still windy, but not as strong as during the night. Also, it started to rain, and there was a nip in the air. Not ideal conditions for a first outing since before Christmas.

Mentors is a large, privately owned wedding and accommodation facility located on the side of town near Jeffreys Bay, with the windfarm next door.

We arrived shortly before the start, and standing in the cold wind and spits of rain, I was contemplating our ‘bad’ luck with the weather. Apart from running shoes I didn’t really have appropriate clothes to wear for a run, so donned the nearest thing that is not a pair of jeans. Since the weather wasn’t ideal and looked even worse on the horizon, we decided to start with a jog in the hope of warming up a bit, and getting it done quicker. My baggy hippie-type pants turned into a sail catching a lot of wind. In the right direction, it could have counted in my favour, but it felt like nothing other than a handicap.

The idea was to jog slowly until I couldn’t anymore and then just walk to the end. But leg-memory seems to be a thing. We ran at a seven-plus minute per kilometre pace which turned out to be attainable, and I could keep going until the end.

The course is a short lollipop with two laps of the round section, off-road in a nature reserve. Lots of volunteers were on the course encouraging runners and walkers. Having a double lap of the one section meant they had a short course (3km?) as well as the full parkrun 5km distance. We were 99 runners and walkers, and being a flattish course and a loop, meant we could almost see everyone out there. In the distance we also saw some Blesbok and ostriches.

At the finish, coffee and snacks could be bought from the gorgeous stone and thatch roof venue. Water with lemon and mint were provided and the sheltered area meant a lot of participants were just relaxing and catching up. We bought a coffee and sat on the porch with a beautiful view over the farm thinking about life, death, running, and survival. A nagging concern that our upcoming flights might be cancelled (due to war and ultimately greed) and that we might not be able to get home, were thoughts I was trying to avoid.

Afterwards we went back to the grindstone to finish off the remaining things that had to be done before flying back super early the next day.

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The year gone by

And just like that another year is on its head. It is a real shame that we didn’t get to do any events this year. There are a number of reasons for that, but one that stands out is the entry fees. It has become stupidly expensive, and I just don’t want to pay that anymore. Just the other day I was looking at a local event and the late entry fee for a 10k run is $100! Normal is $70 which is already a rip-off, even taking into account that participants have to be bused to the start. 

Then there is the issue of Ironman. I try to avoid doing any events that are organised by or associated with the Ironman Group. This includes iconic events like the Tarawera Ultra, Queenstown Marathon, Hawkes Bay Marathon, Auckland Marathon. On top of being super expensive, they are killing the little man and ruining the running scene. But nobody seems to care. I am very much in the camp of ‘refusing to support the Ironman Group’. And in an attempt (I’m guessing) to try and keep up with these big corporations), most other events are also getting to the point where exorbitant fees makes it impossible to enter for average participants who just do events for fun.

A change in traffic management rules did not help either. This killed off the last few small events that were still standing. Unfortunately community events (like the North Range Trio) suffered as a result of all of these things. There aren’t many affordable events left nowadays, and even though there are quite a few I would still like to do, most of them are on the South Island, which is another kettle of fish altogether when it comes to money and prices of things. You may as well cross the ditch and go for events in Oz. 

This all changed my mindset from supporting events to one of ‘doing it myself’. Dream up my own runs and then do it. We have done so many 10kms and half marathons in the past that it would have to be an exceptional event for me to sign up. Especially taking into account that we often run half marathons and further when training for long events. The distance is nothing special if you just to it for enjoyment and socialising, and my guess is that that might be the case for a lot of runners out there. So to attract the numbers in shorter distance (especially if you want to include families and kids) they have to be VERY affordable. Well, that is my opinion.

On top of all this, it would appear that the running scene had changed quite a bit. Or perhaps it is just me that changed. I don’t get as excited about events anymore, which really is a shame. The result? I am not committing to upcoming challenges because there are none. Every now and then I look through the running calendar in search of something to sign up for, but when it comes to the entry fees, and often travel and accommodation, I just want to run screaming to the hills. Which in itself is not the worst idea!

We managed about 280 activities on Strava this year totalling about 1550km, so not entirely sitting on our laurels. But we don’t have focus. We don’t have a proper goal – something to scare me to do more. I just do my 4k run most days of the week and walk a couple more. It is not enough. I still have lofty goals, but without the occasional event to keep one honest, I’m afraid I would have to be a lot more disciplined. Which currently I’m not. When the weather is bad, which is a lot of the time, I just don’t bother.

Let’s hope 2026 will be more eventful, even if just to do more hiking/tramping. And who knows, maybe I can still get myself committed to enter a 100 again. Preferably a 100 miles and not a 100km.

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Branch Road and more

Date: 9 November
Distance: 7km
Time: 1:07

It took me a long while to post this. Perhaps because it marked the ‘last straw’ in terms of my fitness levels, or lack thereof – I had to admit to myself that things were not progressing as I had hoped. This was very demoralising. The struggle, for whatever reason, is very real. However, by now it has also started to become a mental thing – if you think you can’t, you can’t. I still believe things will look up sooner or later. But I digress.

A number of years ago when Gerry and I were still organising running events (before COVID left us with no other option than going back to full time employment), we were always on the lookout for new places to host events that could include a wider community. One of the options was venturing into the Pohangina Valley. We scouted a few places in the area, and also walked up Branch Road, a paper road, which looked like it might be a good candidate. However, after walking up the track we didn’t deem it suitable. From memory I think there was a slip, or something looked a bit unsafe, or some or other issue I can’t recall right now. Being a narrow path and a long drive to get there might also have had something to do with it.

In 2022 I started working as a trapper in the Southern Ruahine, and my then boss once stopped at the top of this track, and told me that a local lady organises a walk down Branch Road every year. At the time I did not bring our walk from the bottom up and the start at the top together to realise it was the same track. From the bottom it looked like we were walking on private land, and it felt awkward, like we were intruding, so we never made it all the way up the hill. From the top it looked wild and unkempt, but somehow still inviting, like a good place to go on training runs. But we also never got around to walk/run up or down Branch Road by ourselves or as part of the organised event in 2022 or 2023.

In 2024, when the event was on again, friends couldn’t make it anymore, so they gave us their entries. We arrived bright and early, signed in, and got some sweets and water from the car to take with. Two buses took all of us up the windy road to the start of the track (driving past the home of my ex boss). Most people were walking the event, but we were rushed for time, so decided to run down. Looking at the time it took, including a pee stop, photo taking, looking at the scenery, and trying to be sure we stayed on the trail, we may as well have walked. Although we did arrive first, it wasn’t very long before the first walkers showed up.

The first 1.1 kilometres were run on a new forestry road. What was still an overgrown path a couple of years ago, was now a decent logging road. We encountered a marshal at this point who was still busy putting up signage. We passed him shortly before hitting the ‘single track’. This stretch was quite overgrown with tall grass. With all the rain of late coupled with some warmer days, the grass is out of control at our place. It was the same for this track.

Some permanent sign boards made it reasonably obvious where to go and one shouldn’t get lost, but occasionally we did question which was the right way. We passed some slips and some muddy sections, but overall it was an enjoyable outing. I can absolutely see the locals supporting this year after year.

But …

Shortly after, I got sick again. Almost to the day I had COVID last year. It made me wonder if someone on the bus might have been sick, but of course I could have picked it up anywhere. And again, I was sick for quite a long time. More than a month. And somewhere along the line Gerry also got sick. This meant our running stopped, yet again, for more than a month. It feels like I just cannot catch a break.

After some hemming and hawing, doing the maths, over and over, I had to admit to myself that I would not be able to make the Old Ghost distance in the cut-off times by the event date in February. I have no doubt that I could cover the distance at mostly a walking pace, but it might have taken me twenty-four hours. I noticed from previous results that most runners finish in less than 14-15 hours, something I was likely not capable of achieving. We had to forfeit our entries. It is always such a hard decision to make. But it was the right decision.

Fast forward a few months (!), we followed some of the live coverage of the event at the weekend. It looked amazing. I was jealous of everyone’s fitness and capabilities. It feels like I’m never going to get there again. But since we pulled out of the event at the end of last year, and getting over COVID, we started jog-walking again. We also signed up for the Wilderness Walk1200km, which is an initiative by the Wilderness magazine to get people moving. The aim is to cover about 3.3km every day. I guess the rationale is for people to be active for roughly 30 minutes every day. And so far so good. We are on track, perhaps even a bit ahead of where we are meant to be.

On top of the walking, we also try to jog 5km most days, with a slightly longer run on the weekends. That means we cover 9km most days, and initially I could feel that the extra load set me back a bit. But at some point I should get used to doing that distance, and I should start to improve. I’m convinced of it, although the past five months or so proved otherwise.

I’m still hopeful. I’m still hanging in there.