Off-road running

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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.

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River-Run Backyard Ultra

Date: 26 October
Distance: 40km (Wouna), 48km (Gerry)
Time: 6 hours/laps (W), 7 hours/laps (G)

Sometimes it feels like we are on a runaway freight train. Life is moving ahead at speed while we are desperately trying to get on board. This whole year has been like that. We took six weeks off at the beginning of the year to visit family, and it honestly feels like we haven’t got back on track the whole year. There is only two months left of this year, and I had grand aspirations and goals of where I wanted to be with my fitness by now, but sadly it has not happened. Add to that challenging weather for months on end, and training becomes a chore. It is no fun trying to run in the cold, strong wind, and or rain.

Nonetheless, we started doing some events again to try and keep us honest (despite being just about last in most of them). In April this year, we decided already that we want to try and do this backyard ultra. The concept has been around for a few years, created by Gary Cantrell (aka Lazarus Lake) who is known for his whacky ideas about running, endurance and challenging the human body and spirit, but we never got around to trying it. In April, the end of October seemed far away, and we made ambitious plans to run at least 80km, hopefully more. Little did we know that life will get super hectic with studies and all, the winter months would be the wettest we’ve had since moving to NZ, and training would be very haphazard. We knew we were in for a wet windy winter and spring, but still thought we might be able to manage some good mileage each week. We have managed before, but we forget to take into account that Gerry works full time since COVID came along, which has taken its toll on what one can fit in and what not. Not to mention how the weather is increasingly more challenging as the years go by. Our property also took a turn for the worse with trees in dire need of pruning, not to mention keeping on top of the grass. And then there is still the everlasting maintenance, as is normal when you have a property with no money to pay someone else to do it for you.

On Friday night we went shopping for some food and drinks for the event. I was keen to take ginger beer along, plus electrolyte drink. Other things we needed to buy were marshmallows, jelly sweets, biltong, baby potatoes, date balls, bananas, and liquorice toffees. We also took gherkins, sesami snaps, oranges from our tree, and coffee we made on the morning. Back home, we threw everything in a cardboard box, got the tent, incase we need to set up closer to the corral (an American word that Laz started using which then became common in NZ and other backyard events too), gathered our water bottles and whatever else we might need, and went to bed. It did not feel like were going to do an event the next morning. We were on autopilot just going through the motions.

It is a terrible situation when you don’t get excited about events anymore. No events excite me. I just do them as it is a bit ‘easier’ than running 20km by yourself, you get to see other places, there is the glimmer of hope that it might spark the running fire again, and it keeps you a bit more accountable. Otherwise I would easily just skip the 20km run.

Arriving early in Waipukurao at the A&P grounds, we signed in, and got our trackers that go around your ankle to record your laps and time. Luckily the organisers used a shed for the corral where we could leave our provisions, to be close-by, stay dry, and be easily accessible between laps. We went back to the car to have breakfast and a coffee, before heading back to the shed. Chatting away, it still hadn’t sunk in that we were about to start an event. Before you know it, time was up. I still needed to make a pee stop, so went to the nearest loo. Someone was inside, taking his time, and there were two ladies in front of me. With three minutes to go, a couple of us still had to use the facility. When it finally got to my turn, there was a minute left, and I was frantically trying too pee, wipe, flush, sanitise, open door, and get back to the corral in time for the start. As the door was shutting behind me, I was still pulling up my pants, while running to the start.

And so I arrived just in time to start on the first lap. Once on the move, I realised I didn’t have my cap, neither did we bother to take some sweets or something to have during the lap as I thought might be a good idea. Luckily it was only the first lap, but it was sunny and already quite warm. In fact the first three laps were very hot, but by the fourth lap the wind picked up a bit and it looked like rain. It got more overcast and coupled with the breeze it wasn’t as hot anymore.

Our strategy was to walk the first kilometre, jog two kilometres, walk one, jog two, and walk the final 700 metres. This worked out fine and we finished the lap with nine minutes to spare. The following two laps we finished with about 5-6 minutes to spare. I was getting sorer and slower as the laps ticked over. I knew it would happen, as we didn’t train nearly enough to even do what we did. I still struggle to run 4km continuously at a 6.5min/km pace. Something feels off, and I am not sure if it is just part of midlife and getting older, delayed COVID symptoms, or what is going on. But I’m not ready to give up on running. Yet. Hopefully never.

The terrain was not too bad. After the start, you make your way through a parking area and up the stop bank. Turning right we followed the stop bank, which is easy underfoot, for a bit more than a kilometre, before a steep drop down the bank led us to a grassy area next to the Tukituki River, to take us back the way we came. This was uneven and just a wee bit like running in paddocks, although this wasn’t nearly as bad. This stretch is about 1.5km before passing near the start/finish which was just on the other side of the stop bank. Being so close to the base means that supporters can walk over the stop bank and cheer on the runners. A couple of hundred metres further we went under the main road bridge (at the 3km mark), up and down the stop bank where we reached curvy bike trails that run next to the river. It is sheltered from the sun and under the trees, following the river on the northern side of the main road bridge until the turn-around point (after about 1.8km) to head back to base. Again we made our way up the stop bank to run along the easy path on top back to finish the first loop.

The loop is thus very narrow and long; running next to the river on uneven ground for half of it, and on top of the stop bank covered with limestone for the other half. Down by the river the gnats were a real pain, especially in the first three laps. I had a few in my eyes and half-swallowed one. Those are the worst, as it feels like they are clawing their way back out of your throat while you are coughing your lungs out, gasping for air, and eyes watering. Once the wind picked up and it became overcast, they disappeared. Up on the stop bank we were showered by the kapok from the silk floss trees. Every now and again I could hear someone sneezing, and I myself had to take two antihistamines to cope. The grass next to the bike tracks were also head high, which didn’t help anyone with hay fever.

Passing or being passed on the single track bike trails was a bit difficult, and as this was also our walking kilometre, it must have been a frustration for others. Despite making way as much as possible, it remains a pain to pass or be passed on a single track.

Back at the base, we poured some ginger beer, diluted with water, filled a ziploc with some sweets, before lining up for lap two. And so it went. Eat, drink and run-walk. People were chatting and poking fun all around the course. At our pace, we saw the same people roughly at the same spots, and had the same group more or less within earshot. This changed, of course, once I started to really fatigue and get slower. The first three laps went fine, but the last three was a struggle. I made it each time with about three minutes to spare, which was okay given that we planned to only do about a marathon. After six laps (just over 40km) I called it quits, but Gerry decided to do another lap (which brought him to a bit over 48km). Although he could have gone on and perhaps do another few laps, it didn’t make much sense anyway. Neither of us are fit or conditioned enough, and there’s no point pushing yourself over the edge for no good reason.

While he was out doing a last lap, I got myself into dry clothes and watched other runners finish. After his last lap, we stayed behind for yet another lap, just soaking in the gorgeous day, and being outside. In an ideal world it would have been great to arrive the night before, set up one’s base, and be ready to go long. I think to be prepared and really part of the event can be very exciting. Sadly, we were just passers-by doing a few laps.

Back home we showered and went to bed early. The next day I wasn’t nearly as sore as after our previous two 40km+ events. Perhaps the more regular running (even though it is only 4km at a time) is making a difference.

It was a long weekend and rumour has it that in NZ the weather improves after Labour Weekend. The common wisdom is to not plant out your tomato plants before Labour Weekend, as cold snaps can still happen. This year, the weather took a turn for the worse, and the weeks following Labour Weekend was still quite cold with temperatures dropping to two degrees celsius at night, and very unsettled (wind and rain most days). The result? Again not much running for us. I can only hope the weather will improve soon, or we can say goodbye to our Old Ghost Ultra entries for February 2025.

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Omakere Coastal Hill Country Run/Walk

Date: 19 October
Distance: 19.2km
Time: 2:58

Getting up before 5am for the trip to Putarere Beach wasn’t easy. It was still dark, and I find it really hard to get out of bed when it’s still dark outside. On the plus side it was a gorgeous day. Any day without wind (and warm – it was reasonable at 10 degrees C at the start) is a perfect day. By the time we left from home before 6am, the colour of the sky had just started to turn. I thought we might have a chance to spot Comet C/2023 A3 once we reached the top of the Pahiatua Track, but of course it was cloudy. New Zealand is not called the land of the long white cloud for no reason.

We arrived bright and early at the farm not long after 8am, signed in, used one of many loos (what a welcome relief), and got our packs at the car for the run. It was a little bit cool, but before we started I could strip down to a T-shirt. Which is unusual for me. The last few days the temperatures have warmed up with hints of summer approaching. Although we still need to get past Labour weekend (26-27 October) before getting too hopeful.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the run, but the surroundings looked quite hilly. A few minutes after 9am race briefing took place. The whole vibe was very relaxed. None of this ‘start at 9am sharp’ or be sure to make the cut-off at such-and-such a time. It was announced that we were 386 participants of which about 30 were runners. The largest field to date. As far as I know this was the first year the run was introduced. Previously the event was a walk only. We also learned afterwards from one of the locals that the run changes every year as it shifts between the farms in the area.

After race briefing while we were still wondering where the start is, the organiser said that the runners can just start running when they want to. We looked at each other somewhat surprised, and started jogging towards the gate not a hundred percent sure where to go. We knew we had to follow a side-by-side. To the right some way up the farm track, the side-by-side was waiting, and before we reached him a number of the runners had overtaken us. Slowly but surely we were making our way through paddocks and up the hill.

Have I mentioned before how much I dislike paddock running? I had ‘coastal trail’ in mind, and thought that perhaps it would just be the first few kilometres that are on the farm before heading into a trail. Where did I get this notion from? This was not the case. The whole run was through paddocks, on quad-bike paths and the occasional farm road. The terrain underfoot was brutal. Cattle tend to make really big/deep holes in mud, and these have dried out already, after some sunny and warm days. Had it been muddy, it would have been a challenge of a different kind, but it would not have been as demanding on feet, I think. Running on hard-packed hoofmarks is tricky. It wasn’t long before I developed some hotspots, again. What is up with that?

Having said that, we could not have asked for a better day – warm and sunny, and I was so glad we made the trip despite having to start at sparrows fart.

After 6km we reached a high point (240m) with beautiful views over the ocean and the beach below. But the hills didn’t stop there. The next 5km still had a lot of uphills, but also some steep sharp downhills. It is definitely no walk in the park, and I couldn’t run a huge chunk of it.

At the halfway mark (around 10km) after crossing the main road we had driven to the farm earlier, we reached an aid station. This was also the spot where the walkers would get their free lunch to have a lovely picnic under the trees. Our lunches were waiting at the finish line. We filled up our water bottles and grabbed a pear which we shared. Not long after leaving the aid station, on a very steep downhill stretch (getting down to about 75m above sea level), we saw runners scattered in all directions. It would appear that the signage might not have been obvious enough, so runners were going in all directions. Someone ahead of us spotted the arrow (looking back it seemed quite obvious), getting everyone back on track again.

On a gradual downhill of about 5km, we constantly crossed a little stream on the farm. If one was very careful, you could keep your feet dry, and although I did manage that for the most part, I did end up dragging one foot through the water while trying to jump across. Later on I also stepped into mud. After what felt like a million stream crossings, we reached farm buildings (did I spot some ongaonga right next to it?), followed by grassy paddocks. After a gravel road crossing with some festive volunteers, and another climb, we were on our way to the beach.

About a kilometre beach-run took us back onto the main road, leading back to the farm. We were welcomed under a purple tinsel finish line (quite unique) where we were checked off for our safe return. We got our free lunch (a wonderful wrap (gluten free option) or a bun filled with meat, salad greens, beet and relish, a slice and a small chocolate). We parked ourselves on the grass with Sue and Steve to devour the lunch, saw more participants finishing, and listened to local musicians entertaining the growing crowd. It was delightful that they started their set with an Iris DeMent song (Our Town).

Before heading home we drove around in the area where Gerry took some photos. We have never been out that way, so it was good to make a day of it and explore a little.

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The Awa Adventure Run (inaugural)

Date: 28 September
Distance: 22.6km
Time: 3:50

A new event on the running calendar is always exciting. The website stated that it is run in a mountain bike park, called That Place, and that the elevation is 1130 metres for the longest distance. Which is of course the one we went for. What’s the use of driving 100km if you are only going to run 14km or 7km. The elevation should have been a warning sign, but who is scared of a little hill.

I am tired of making excuses for my ‘bad performance ‘. I’m tired of being slow. I’m tired of feeling like I’m never ever going to be fit again. On the up side, even though I’m not one of the quickest runners around, I still finish what I start. So far.

Admittedly I’m in a bad place running-wise. We battle to get into a proper routine, and every time things start to look like there’s progress, the weather turns super nasty (which is a lot of the time), or life just gets out of hand. It is an endless battle of stop-starts, and I can only hope that things will get better again one day. Running is one of those things that you cannot do haphazardly – routine and consistency is key. And to add injury to insult, I cannot stop eating junk. Coupled with generally just eating too much.

Nevermind. There will be better days again.

As mentioned this run takes place at That Place mountain bike park. It is privately owned, twenty minutes upstream from Whanganui on the Kaiwhaiki Road. We arrived early to find only a handful of other cars. My initial thought was that it would be a very small event. Especially since the school event already took place the previous day.

Walking around in the wet paddock (to register, to use the portaloo) my feet was already wet and we had’t even started yet. A friend swapped his shoes out to keep the pair he would be running with, dry. This made me wonder how muddy or wet the track might be.

It was a beautiful day, and although cool at the start, it quickly warmed up. We lined up for race briefing, and then were sent on our merry way, making our way up the mountain right from the start. But it was not as simple as that. Although we were generally speaking going up, it was on a track that goes up and down and up and down all the way. Fortunately not as bad as is usually the case with bike parks – these ups and downs are decent, not silly little bumps in the road. Once at the top (was it the top?) we passed some ponds, and also started running on forestry roads.

There’s one aid station on the mountain. An aid station that put anything on a lot of other events to shame. It was unmanned, but luckily most participants were polite, closed the containers so that the lids didn’t blow away, and generally didn’t make a mess in/around the food. There were chips/crisps, marshmallows, jelly sweets, and containers with water. Lots of it. You pass this aid station twice. Once before heading down the mountain, and once after getting back up that bugger of a hill. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Shortly after the aid station, a viewpoint over the valley made me think that we were looking down from the Skyline Track, which was obviously not the case as the Skyline Track is further upstream. But the river also formed a near circle with an ‘island’ in the middle.

After some running on undulating gravel roads, we started heading down the mountain on a grassy single track. Being wet made it slippery and no sooner did ‘slipping’ cross my mind, when Gerry landed on his arse. Luckily no damage done, and we could carry on down the steep downhill. These were also too steep to run. Whether going up or down, the incline was challenging to run on. At least for me, in my current state. Others were of course flying down the mountain.

This was also the point at which the camera clapped out. Despite cleaning the lens multiple times, it still looked like it was fogged up. Humidity must have got into the camera somehow.

Once we were finally down the mountain on the river’s level again, we had to make our way back up the steepest and longest hill of any event we’ve ever done. One and a half kilometres of relentless uphill that took me nearly half an hour to complete. Not a single step is level or down, each one is on an incline. My calves were screaming, and my unfit heart and lungs didn’t do any better.

Once back on the mountain, finally, we stocked up at the aid station again before slowly making our way down again where it levels out for the last few kilometres next to the awa. The website gave the elevation gain as 1130 metres, but we measured around 750m. Either way, it is very hilly.

I guess it’s fair to say that a lot of it can be described as undulating, while going uphill and downhill. But to me it was too steep to run. I’m just not in a place where I’m even just a bit comfortable on hills.

Once we were back at the finish (about five metres away!) we were directed in the opposite direction to cover another 1.5km. That was just nasty, but to make the course at least a half marathon, it had to be done. By then I had long given up on running of any kind. In fact about 3km earlier I already gave up the ghost and started to walk. The one part that was totally runnable and flat, was the part I had to walk.

Finally at the almost deserted finish (there were only two others behind us), we got our medals, changed into dry clothes, and made our way back home.

Spring has not been kind to us so far weather wise. It rained heaps and often the wind would blow a gale. But we were very lucky to have had good weather at all three of the events we did in September. Those were just about the only good days of the month.

Now, if only I can get into a routine of sorts and run most days of the week.

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John West Kinloch Offroad Challenge

Date: 7 September
Distance: 42.2km
Time: 6:32

Life is a funny ol’ thing. You can make plans all you like, but it will dance in the direction it wants to regardless of your plans. This happens all the time, and deja vu kicked in when I thought about the previous time I tried to study full time and make plans to do big runs. In foresight one’s plans and goals line up. Everything seems doable. In fact, having a good physical regime is necessary when stress-levels are high, so I try not to skimp on running, even though the complementary activities (foam rolling, stretching, strengthening) always falls by the wayside. But I digress.

In 2019 I was in the final throes of a PhD, but still attempted to run a 21km event the day before handing in. It was a disaster. My mind couldn’t cope with all the stress, I had the mother of all migraines, and the run was unpleasant to put it mildly. This event was another one of those (which ones weren’t?) where we lined up not ready. Not even remotely ready. Worse than ever before. And it will no doubt happen again. In fact, in a week’s time we want to do the Hatuma half marathon, and will be in no better place than now. At least the stress of the studies will be much less.

Both Gerry and I decided to enrol into the Master of Design degree, full time, through UCOL. It is a year and a half course, which we could fortunately stretch out for two more months. I started off with an idea of what I wanted to do, before having a 180 degree change of heart a few months into the study. Gerry’s situation was even worse, but he finally found his way and settled on the exact output to complete his degree in the latter half of last year. Although theoretically we weren’t much behind schedule, we also weren’t ahead of schedule. And knowing that we had a six-week family visit early in the year, we should have been further along. Adding to that another almost two-week Oz work trip, it meant we had two months less to dedicate to studies.

Last year we could still manage to train a decent amount. Not nearly enough to do our planned 100 mile event in December, but enough to get us through the 50km Tekapo run in September. Things unfortunately went a bit pear-shaped from there. I had ten weeks to complete all the practical work for the end of year’s exhibition (admittedly I perhaps went a bit overboard with some lofty goals) which resulted in not much running. Adding to that getting COVID towards the end of November, which set me back six weeks, including the dreaded ‘cough cold’. My system took a knock, and I couldn’t run at all due to feeling bleh, but also lack of any aerobic capacity/capability. We had to give up on the 100 miler, and after covering a pathetic 83 kilometres all up between mid-September and the end of the year, we started over in January and jog-walked 103km. Not that 26km/week is anything to rave about, but it is better than nothing. Which is exactly what we did in February. Nothing. Travelling halfway around the world and spending time with family, meant no running or walking at all (no excuses, just laziness). Starting again in March we covered 169km. In April we did 197km, and things looked up again. But in May we dropped back to 134km. June (214km) and July (216km) looked promising, but then August rolled around, and being the last month to finish off all the work (dissertation and exhibition) for the Masters meant we managed only 161km (jogged about 90km and walked the rest), which is quite impressive thinking back at everything we had to fit in. But is was not nearly enough.

To put it in perspective; for a marathon I like to run about 65-70km per week for the two to three months leading up to a marathon. It just makes the distance easier and far more enjoyable. Of course we weren’t nearly doing that, which placed us in a bad position to attempt a marathon. But, we have entered the Old Ghost 85km event (22 February 2025), and doing long runs are important. Also, if we didn’t do this event (or the Taniwha which we’ve done before), we would have lost the credit we had with Total Sport. $250 is not the kind of money we can simply throw away, so the only option was to just suffer through it. 

And suffered I did. The first 10km went okay, and I even managed to run four of those in under a seven minute pace. This is the part that runs from the Kinloch domain making a short loop through the village, followed by a lollipop (out-and-back stretch with a big loop at the far end) on the Whangamata Stream Track, before heading onto the Great Lake Trail to follow the new Otaketake Track (it looked quite established to me) to Kawakawa Road. This is the highest point on the course at 600m altitude. 

At only about 5km in, I developed a hotspot on my foot below my big toe. Five kilometres further and I had a hotspot on the pinky toe of my other foot. I’m not prone to blisters, so wasn’t sure what was going on. Perhaps my gait or running style changed since we walk as much as we jog of late? Or perhaps I was just feeling sorry for myself and trying to find excuses for going so slow. Regardless, I chose to ignore it. At the end the pinky toe settled and nothing happened, while the other foot had a huge bloody (blimmen!) blister.

The lovely smell of someone’s fireplace was in the air once we reached the start of the Great Lake Trail. A few kilometres further this was replaced by the smell of death. Hedgehog? After a short stint in the trapping world, the smell is immediately recognisable as a dead animal in or near a trap. This was more or less also my limit in terms of the distance I was capable of achieving. But we came for 42.2km and not 15km, so on we pushed.

I was surprised at how runnable the course is, even for me. It is an off-road event, not a trail run, so very easy underfoot. Plus, we ran on bike tracks, making it well groomed and smooth going, apart from the small bumps that are usually found on bike tracks. If only I was a little bit fitter, this could have been an enjoyable outing. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable – it was just really hard work not being fit and strong enough to cover 42km. The hills are super gradual and easy (elevation of about 300 metres over a 10km stretch. The second hill was a bit steeper), which is also shown by the winning time of 2:48.

The weather was almost perfect – apart from the breeze at the top, there was no wind, 11 degrees at the start, and overcast, so we donned a double layer of t-shits and polyprops to start with. It was cool, but not cold, and soon Gerry had to take off his vest. All was going great temperature wise, until the wind picked up near the top. As we were approaching the highest point, the breeze became quite cold and by the time we hit the road section, Gerry’s hands were numb from the cold. He was soaking wet from sweating and coupled with the breeze, he got cold very quickly. About a kilometre is run on this road before turning off back onto trails to run next to the road for a few hundred metres, until we got back on the road for the last couple hundred metres on-road. 

Turning back onto the track and following it for a few hundred metres, we reached the second aid station at the Orakau car park at the halfway mark. At the halfway aid station we filled up my two and Gerry’s one water bottles with electrolytes and water, shared one tiny piece of banana (they were still meant to cut more) and had a few crisps, before heading off. After a few hundred metres, we reached the loo where I popped in while Gerry put on his arm warmers and gloves. This made a world of difference in his overall temperature, and he looked comfortable again.

Speaking of aid stations; In my mind’s eye I anticipated something quite different and more elaborate, than what was there. When I read ‘Water, electrolyte drink, lollies and chips’, I saw in my mind’s eye gazebos with bunting, balloons, ribbons, cheerful volunteers in costumes, and loud music to keep the party going. Don’t ask me why.

But all going well in the beginning, and moving quicker than I thought I could, we ran past the first aid station at 8km, thinking it was an extra one with water only, as they sometimes do at events. It looked small, and me not studying the map or course description beforehand, I thought the first aid station would be further along. As I said, I imagined something far more elaborate and festive, so obviously this could not be it. With the second aid station only at about 21km, Gerry ran out of drinks shortly before, but I still had enough so he could sip some of mine. 

When we saw there would be three aid stations on the course, we decided to leave our 2 litre reservoirs, and rely only on the two small bottles in front of the hydration vest. This meant one litre for each of us for roughly every 10km. Unfortunately Gerry’s one bottle was leaking, so he had to finish it off quickly. I despise the small silicon bottles and always use normal plastic water or juice bottles. They are far cheaper, I don’t feel sorry for them, they can’t puncture, and they don’t leak. It just makes life easier. 

From around half way, I was well and trudy buggered. I found it hard to think how I would make it to the finish line. For the most part we were basically on our own, but saw the occasional other runner or walker out on the course. We also had Pat and Liz within earshot the whole way. But being in the bush you don’t always see other runners even though they are only a few metres ahead or behind.

Everything was sore by then and I could not wait for it to be over. The other weird thing that happened on this event was that in my mind I was ahead of the actual kilometres the whole way! That is so demoralising – thinking you are at 5km when you are only at 4km. Or thinking you only have 3km to go when you have 4km to go. Add to that the permanent track distance marker that reads 1km to Kinloch, when it is still more than 2km to the domain and finish of the event.

Nina waited for us near the finish, and we all sat drinking beer through prize-giving which we made just in time as they were announcing the winners. Unforuntately, there were no more sausage sizzles which is always a bit frustrating when you are slow for whatever reason, and the organisers start packing up. We obviously also missed out on all the minor spot prizes that were handed out as runners arrived at the finish. 

Back at the bach, we showered, had something to eat before driving home. We were not out of the woods yet with regards to the degree, and still had things to finalise before the external assessments.

A huge thank you to Nina for offering us accommodation right next to the start/finish. What a treat to roll out of bed and be at the start.

Exhausted and sore, we arrived home at about 8pm, had tea and went to bed. The physical exhaustion made for a nice change when one’s brain doesn’t want to think anymore. I’m glad we could manage to do this, regardless of the lack of training and fitness, and who knows, maybe it we’re fit again one day, might go back and claim that sausage sizzle. 😉