Off-road running

by

Race Tekapo

Date: 16 September 2023
Distance: 50km
Time: 7:51

During the week leading up to the event, we followed the weather predictions closely, and things were looking increasingly grim. When an outing like this starts to get into the thousands of dollars, you don’t want anything to derail your plans. Winds of up to 100km/h (130km higher up the mountain) and a possibility of rain starting from 1pm were in the forecast for the event, according to YR. MetService had the rain starting at 4pm. We had all our compulsory gear, plus a few more layers (yes, I’m a wuss when it comes to extreme weather), and were crossing everything for not too bad weather.

The trip down was fine, but exhausting. We flew from Wellington early on Friday morning, so had to get up at 3:40am to drive down well in time. The wind was blowing like no tomorrow the day and evening before, and I was worried trees might be down/on the road, increasing our travel time. Fortunately nothing of the sort, and we could drive down in good time. The wind was still very strong, blowing our little car across the road, and I was stressing about the flight. I’m not a big fan of turbulence or sideways landings, but when we reached Wellington, it was calm and beautiful. I could not be more relieved. The flight was okay, a little bit of turbulence, with a decent landing in reasonable windy conditions, as Christchurch was more windy than I hoped.

When we walked out of the airport, the temperature was already a few degrees cooler than Wellington and Palmy. The rental car guy picked us up at the airport and drove to their place to sort the paperwork. Once we were on our way, we made by a quick trip to the supermarket for some last food stuffs, before making our way to Lake Tekapo. It is about a three hour drive and we were hoping to take it easy, stopping along the way, and not feel too rushed. It was about 10am when we left Christchurch.

Not a whole lot was happening along the way, and not many towns to stop for coffee or a breakfast. Most places were still closed. Fairlie, on the other hand, was bursting at the seams with queues out the door at some eateries and coffee shops. After a walk through town to find some hot chips and coffee, we eventually gave up and decided to stick to the bread, cheese and salami we bought at the supermarket. Why does one always want something other than what you have on hand?

We arrived at our accommodation at about 3pm, checked in, got our gear ready, and walked the 750m to the event registration. Registered and with a bib, goody bag which included a race branded Thir headband (!), our compulsory gear checked and drop bags dropped off, we made our way back to the lodge as it was starting to get dark. While cooking dinner, we shared a cider, and cranked up the heaters.

The temperature was already in the single digits and dropping though the night. Prediction was for minus one at the start of the race. When we got up, yet again before 4am, it was one degree Celsius. But the best part was there was almost no wind! It was obviously going to pick up sooner rather than later, but our 1.2km walk in the dark to the start was just very cold, not super duper cold from wind chill.

Race briefing was at 5:40am, and at 6am on the dot we were off – to the theme music of UTMB: Vangelis’ Conquest of Paradise. Haha. That was quite funny, but for the first few kilometres I was humming the tune in my head thinking, dreaming, about doing the UTMB one day.

From the start we went straight onto the walkway next to the lake, across a footbridge, past the Church of the Good Shepherd, and into the forest. The sun was starting to rise and by the time we reached the first aid station just on the other side of the forest (at 3.7km) we could turn off our headlamps. We ran a big loop in what looked like a paddock. Huge rabbit holes were strewn across the field, which reminded me of a time when I was 13 years old when I stepped into some animal’s burrow and nearly disappeared down the hole. I was in agony afterwards from spraining a few things, and to this day I wonder if that had anything to do with my wonky spine.

Back at the aid station, we stuffed ourselves with the wonderful spread of oranges, Heartland chips, Pam’s jet planes, and biscuits. The chips and jet planes were gluten free which was fantastic. Normally I can’t have anything at aid stations as most jelly sweets do contain gluten, and we have to carry our own sustenance.

We were going quicker than I anticipated, doing the first 10k in 1:15. Considering it was nearly flat and very easy underfoot, one could go at speed. But this was meant to be an event for us to take easy, not break ourselves, and just enjoy a long day out. But of course doing the first 10 so ‘quick’, I figured we could potentially try to do each 10k in one hour thirty minutes, to finish in about 7h30. It is still reasonably slow, and shouldn’t have a long tail of recovery. We had 15 minutes in the bank for when we have to go over Mt John, which would no doubt slow us down.

After a whirl around the forest of which parts are being felled, we headed back long the edge of the lake towards the start at about 21k. Passing next to the start/finish area, we topped up our waterbottels, feasted on the spread, and headed off towards the mountain. Although it is only about 300m elevation, the ascent is over a 2k distance – quite steep with no respite. A big part of the ascent was also in a forest and sheltered from the wind. But once we popped out above the forest, it was rather windy. And cold. I’ve started with five layers, got down to four layers, but had to put on my fifth layer again. My buff and beanie hadn’t come off yet, and neither the gloves. With a 6am start, it was still early in the morning and very cold. The poor marshals out on the course and on the mountain, just standing and waiting, must have been freezing.

Once partway down the other side of the mountain, we were diverted onto a sealed road that took us on a steep downhill to the aid station at 28k. We opted to have a dropbag there with more sustenance, some gherkins and prosciutto. We also added rain pants to the dropbag incase the forecast came true and it started to rain at 1pm. We passed the aid station twice (again at 43k) and could access these items on any of the two occasions.

Past the aid station, we took a right to run down another sealed road for another couple of kilometres before being directed back onto the trails. We were running downhill towards Lake McGregor, followed by a long stretch next to Lake Alexandrina. At about 33k on a grassy patch, my feet caught on thin air and I took a roll in the meadow. Luckily there weren’t rocks and the landing was fairly soft. However, all my weight came down on my right arm, which felt quite sore afterwards. Fingers and other joints could still move, albeit sore, so I figure nothing was broken despite the pain.

The stretch next to the Lake Alexandrina felt like it went on forever. At times the track was quite cambered, on top of being quite narrow, making running a bit more challenging. But having said that – this is the easiest most runable 50k I’ve done so far. Apart from the (about) 5k of steep climbs, the whole course is reasonably flat and easy underfoot. Some rocks in parts , and the potential for slippery mud on the downhill coming back off Mt John, but mostly very easy terrain.

We exited from the Lake Alexandrina trail at about 41k, to follow a gravel road back to the aid station at ’41k’ (it was at about to 43.5k). Still filled up from all the goodies at the aid stations we didn’t bother with our drop bag. Moved it to the ‘used’ pile and started on the uphill again. Despite the wind and it being reasonably cold, I took off my fifth layer (a thin down jacket) and gloves and put it in the outside pocket of my hydration vest.

At the top of the incline (about halfway up Mt John again), and with about 6k to go, we dropped down the other side, making our way to the finish. We passed a couple more 50k runners and a few of the 32k runners in this last stretch.

Unfortunately, somewhere in the last 6k, my little down jacket and gloves blew out of my bag and into oblivion, I guess. I hoped that another runner who may have come across it, might pick it up and hand it in, but sadly I haven’t heard anything yet (nine days later). Still crossing my fingers, but not holding my breath.

At the finish it was blowing a gale. We were wet from sweat, and started cooling down quickly. This was when I noticed my jacket was missing.

Gerry bought us mocchas at the coffee cart, we collected our dropbag, and started walking the 1.2km back to the lodge. After a shower, we headed back to the track and walked about 3k back along the course to see if we could find the jacket, but no luck.

With the horrible wind, prize-giving was moved from the race village next to the lake to the community hall where we had registration. Unfortunately this was so small that more than half the people had to stand outside, unawares of what was going on. When the numbers for the spot prizes were called out, the bush telegram were passing the numbers around outside the hall.

Afterwards, while people were bursting out the doors, we headed inside to find the white board with bib numbers written on it for minor spot prizes. Gerry got a spot prize and picked a pair of Creeper wool toe socks for me, which I can’t wait to try out. He also got a couple of free beers.

We headed home to cook the meat we bought, boil some potatoes and have salad, washed down with a red. By then my arm was so sore that I was certain something was fractured or cracked. I could not use it at all, and moving it in certain directions was pure agony. And everything else was more sore than I hoped it would be. Our latest long outings where we walked most of the way, meant I wasn’t very sore afterwards and recovered quickly. But we jogged more than I planned during this event, which resulted in more pounding. We were near the back and I felt bad for keeping the volunteers waiting in the cold, even though we made the ’41k’ cutoff with more than an hour and a half.

This remains the challenge in the NZ running scene  – people don’t want to participate if they’re not fast. Which means that running isn’t really inclusive. This would be a very good event for someone new to the distance, but with only a 121 participants in the 50k (6 DNS and 4 DNF) and a winning time of 3:49 (male), 4:06 (female), the field is very spread out and the back of the packers are few and far between. The slowest time was 8:48.

If we lived on the South Island I would do this event every year. It’s easy enough, great underfoot (when not wet), and fantastic organisation. The aid stations are wonderful, the course is well marked, and the event branded Thir headband was just the cherry on the cake.

During the night the wind picked up even more (is it even possible?) and it started to rain. The wheelie bins with giant rocks on them at our lodge blew over, and things looked terribly grim in the morning. I counted my lucky stars that race day was the day before things turned really nasty. We started gathering all our stuff, and packed for the road trip back to Christchurch. A quick drive through the village (we usually just pass through on the main road), while it was raining coupled with strong wind, before taking the highway. This time we decided to take the scenic route back, which to me looked the same as the other road. Or did I miss something?

We stopped for coffee at the one horse village of Burke’s Pass, but after a look around we ended up leaving without coffee. We drove past Kimbell, visited The Garage Gallery, and later stopped for filter coffee at the Fairlie Heritage Museum.

After taking the rental car back, we checked in at he airport and waiting for our turn. People were milling around and I dreaded the thought of having to fly in the horrible wind. The tail end of some of the strongest winds ever recorded in NZ (246k/h at Cape Turnagain, on the eastern side on the North Island) was blowing outside as we were waiting to board the plane. I found it hard to imagine flights were going ahead in the atrocious conditions.

Taking off was quite bumpy and a lot of turbulence. It was scary, but as we approached Wellington, it just got worse. I didn’t want to look, but the last time I did, the see was white and the water obviously super choppy. I closed my eyes and hoped for the best, when the pilot suddenly pulled up full throttle only to make a U-turn and head back to Christchurch. Three planes before us were already diverted, as were flights to Dunedin. All these flights were going to Christchurch. The landing was, given the circumstances, not too bad, but not the kind one would like to repeat.

With long queues of passengers trying to find out what next, emotions were running high and people were grumpy. Luckily Gerry was nearer the front end and could get a flight back to Wellington the next morning (it seemed almost too soon, as the stormy weather was still lashing the country), and also a nights accommodation at the Sudima Hotel. As we walked the 400 metres to the hotel, we chatted to another lady who was diverted from Dunedin. I couldn’t help but think to myself; what if the weather was so atrocious everywhere and there was nowhere to land? Which made me angry that the airlines took the chance in the first place. But I’m assuming they know what they are doing.

While we waited at the hotel to get helped, we bought a glass of wine at the bar, and just revel in being safely on the ground.

The next day we had breakfast at the airport, while our flight was delayed three times, in order for the wind to die out a bit. It was still blowing strong, but the water was less choppy and the landing was, again, not too bad given the circumstances.

Back home, two massive branches of a pine tree fell on the chicken coop and caused a lot of damage. The tree lost its central leader while it was still a small tree 14 years ago, and grew a heap of branches in its place. Some of these have the circumference of a pregnant sheep, and it was one of these that came down. The havoc it caused is immense: a row of Puhutekawa threes are all flattened on the one side, and some lost all branches. Our remaining apple tree (the other one drowned during winter) took a beating on the one side and some other indigenous tree are also damaged. The amount of work to clean up is vast, and will take a long while before we will have it all done.

Unfortunately, my arm (the one I fell on) took a turn for the worse. By the Friday after the event, I went to a doctor as I was sure something was cracked of broken. Turns out it must be torn ligaments and/or muscle. I was referred to the Hand Physio, but could only get an appointment in ten days time.

In the meantime, I’m pretty useless, and battle to see how I’m going to get everything done that need doing in the next couple of months (school work, cutting grass, pruning olives, cleanup pine tree, fix chook house, and the list goes on). On top of everything, I also picked up a cold of sorts, so no running anytime soon.

That’s the way it goes. Life will throw curve balls. We just need to figure out how to catch them.

by

Summerhill Skedaddle, Papamoa, Tauranga

Date: 14 May
Distance: Approximately 30km (we measured 34km)
Time: 5:45

The most fun you can have on winding, super hilly, muddy bike tracks, without a bike. Until it is ‘fun’, but not fun anymore.

This was the fifth running of the Summerhill Skedaddle (not to be confused with the new Skedaddle event on the South Island). The event runs on mountain bike trails in the Papamoa hills of Tauranga, and I have no doubt the organisers picked the most hilly trails in the park. When I saw Chris Townley at the start, I should have known something was up …

The format is as follows: it starts at 9am and finishes at 3pm, the course is a 5km loop, which you can run as a two-person team, a random Skedaddler, or a solo Skedaddler, and the aim is to complete as many (or as little) loops as you want. The randoms arrive when they want, start when they want and do as many loops as they want. Everyone gets a medal and a beer.

Apart from the teams (and there were many of them), the solo runners numbered 38 men, and 24 women. Random skedaddlers tallied 212, and a maximum of 500 participants are allowed. At a guess, I’d say we were between 300 and 350. The female record was eight laps, broken this year by Caitlin Knox to make it nine (phenomenal on that course!) and the male record remains at ten laps.

When you don’t know what to expect it is very easy to make up numbers beforehand. Like, six hours are allowed, maybe I can make 40km if I jog some and walk the rest. I honestly thought that 5km per hour is totally doable and a bare minimum, therefore easily completing 30km. Turns out, 30km was quite a challenge!

We’ve had some terribly hectic weeks, and this event and trip to Tauranga (some six plus hours drive one way) could not have been more badly timed. However, we were keen to experience this event and it was also a chance to catch up with our good friend Rob. We haven’t seen him since 2019, and it was about time we do an event together again.

With too much wine the night before, a bit of a hangover (thank goodness we sorted our food and drinks beforehand), we arrived not so bright and early at a very festive event base – a woolshed on the Summerhill Farm, owned by a private charitable trust established by David & Cloie Blackley on private land. After paying our dues and writing our names on a board, we queued for a last pee before getting to the start, which was in front of the shed. The start/finish farm track in front of the shed was lined on both sides by gazebos and tents and whatever people were using as setup to stash their sustenance, and shelter their cheering crews. Actually, each lap officially started and finished in the woolshed where you tick off your own laps, but the line of gazebos made for a nice ‘finish shoot’.

At 9am we were counted down and all participants dashed down a steep paddock to get onto the trails. I thought we were near the back, bit I guess we ended up somewhere in the middle. With around 300 runners on a single track, things are bound to be a little congested, and passing or getting passed was a bit tricky, so I tried to hold my place in the long line of runners. I was going okay, despite knowing we were running a bit too fast and I might regret it later on. I was delighted to see a toilet in the first kilometre in the pine forest and decided then that I would make use of it on the second lap. The toilets near the shed were a little bit out of the way, and super smelly. When I used these toilets before the start, I had to hold my breath, and figured the bushes will have to do for future pee stops. It was nauseatingly smelly. Turns out it the bush loo was a composting toilet and really not meant for large volumes (300 people!) of pee.

After the toilet a nice runnable kilometre, or thereabouts, on an overall downhill gradient that took us lower down in a valley where a super muddy section just got worse as the day went on (our photos were all from the first three laps, where that section was already pretty muddy. We forgot to take the camera, and the phone had to do – hence all the out of focus photos). On the first loop we could get through the mud not totally soaked, but by the forth lap, it was a soggy, muddy ankle deep mess, and slippery.

The first 1.5 kilometres is roughly on a downhill gradient, followed by a 1.8km stretch up and down over a hill in the middle of the loop, to finish with the last 2 kilometre on an uphill gradient. Not that that is an accurate description of the course. All around the loop there are short ups and downs to make sure it remains a challenge. A few short ups (three?) were super steep, an almost all fours kind of steep, and I was grateful we didn’t have to come down these. There is not a lot of flat areas, and add to this very windy paths, and the pace comes down considerably. Despite going flat out and ‘running’ what felt like the biggest part of the loop, we finished the first loop in 44 minutes. I knew right then that a loop an hour would be good for my capability at this stage of my training. That is if I could keep going for six hours, which was the main aim. We also needed to factor in the ticking off of laps, getting food and water, pee, etc.

We finished the second loop in 48 minutes, the third in 46 minutes, fourth in 51 minutes, fifth in 55 minutes and the sixth lap in 54 minutes. Which wasn’t too bad going, I think. We dilly-dallied about 48 minutes between laps all up (mixing electrolyte, topping up water and snacks, eat something, loo stops, and ticking off our laps). We opted to run with a small bag of snacks (jetplane jelly sweets, marshmallows, dates) and a small water bottle to have sustenance on the run. At our base setup we also had gherkins, prosciutto, bananas, date balls, sesame snacks, and electrolyte drink.

Adding to the festivities, were a bag pipe player near the halfway point which was also near the woolshed with sound carrying through the valley, and a lone saxophone player deep in the forest with beautiful sound akin to Lisa Simpson leaving music practice. Some wonderful jazzy notes to keep us going on the hills. At the base there was either music playing over the sound system, or live entertainment. As some runners only did one or two loops, or didn’t stay until after lunch, things quieted down somewhat on the trail for the last couple of laps, and the passing or getting passed got a bit less.

A burger cart was making what looked (and smelled!) liked delicious (huge!) burgers, so every time we finished a lap, people were stuffing their faces on the porch of the woolshed where we had to run through to get to the board to tick off a lap, which is pure torture. All I wanted to do was stop and be done with the pain. Unfortunately the burger lady had packed up when we finished, so no burger at the end. But happy with our medals, an iced tea for me, and beer for Gerry and Rob, we ate the last of our prosciutto, gherkins, and crisps, before I dragged my sore body to the car.

Gerry and Rob opted to help collect course markers, and although I was fully prepared to help, I realised within the first few steps that I was going to hold everyone up. To say I was buggered is an understatement. My muscles were completely spent, and for the first time ever I developed a super sore left hip (my FAI is on the right) on the fourth lap. It was especially sore going uphill, and I figured the problem must be muscle related. Admittedly I need to work on my strength, and it will become more important as we go longer.

The course was well marked with colourful ribbons and bunting, course markers and arrows, and entertaining props were scattered around the loop. Where have I seen that gorilla before?

The lowest point was at 120 metres above sea level, and the highest point at 204 metres. It is advertised as a free event, but effectively you pay what you want via a voluntary donation system, and the money is used to maintain the trails.

It is one of the toughest 34km I’ve ever done, and a timely reminder that we should get off the flat roads and into the hills. Not sure when and how, as it is not practically possible on a regular basis, but even once a month should help already.

by

Tutaenui Reservoir Reserve loops – taking stock

Date: 9 April
Distance: 26km
Time: 3:26

With only eights month to go (to our 100 miler) we should be upping the kilometres, slowly but surely. As with most things in life, getting fit is also a case of one step forward and two steps back. Or is it the other way around? Whichever, the foxtrot is not a linear process. A couple of sidesteps anyone?

Add to that continued physical malfunction (ha!) and it makes it so much harder. I am sure I’m not the only person (runner or no runner) that has aches and pains in various places due to misalignment, and unbalanced muscle strength and lack of flexibility. Nobody is perfectly symmetrical, and certain types of sports just exacerbate (or cause!) these imbalances. I blame my years of playing badminton (and some squash) during University and a bit after. My right forearm was double the size of the left arm, and my adductors developed completely differently due to me presumably always pushing off with the same leg. Using only one arm (as is the case with all racket and bat-type sports) in a variety of positions at full force is bound to cause imbalances.

Since we are now at the point of having to increase our mileage, I am yet again trying to do all the other things necessary to get me to the start line. I try to go through a stretch and strength routine at least three times a week, and hope to get back to more foam rolling. I definitely have much more tightness in certain areas (like my hips) since I neglected everything the past couple of years (or longer). Apart from running, stretching and strengthening are also things that needs to become habitual.

We are running and walking reasonably consistently since the beginning of the year. We aim for six days a week, and occasionally only get to five, or sometimes four days, but mostly we do our bit. At 8km a day, of which 5km are run kays at the moment, we cover 40-50km per week, of which we run at least 30km. We hope to increase that to run 5 and walk 4, and a month or so after to 6 run and 4 walk. Slowly but surely the increased mileage will hopefully condition our bodies enough to withstand the longer distances.

Also, we still need to do a qualifier, but unfortunately there aren’t many races on the North Island. Our options are the WUU2K (62km in July), the Taupo Ultra (74km in October, but totally unaffordable, and perhaps also leaving things a bit late), The Blue Lake 24-hour event (September), which might not count as a qualifier if we don’t complete one of the official distances, and the Trail Trilogy (100km, also in September). Each of these have pros and cons. Some are too far, some too expensive, others just not on our radar for whatever reason. But there’s one other, which we nearly forgot about: the Marton to Whanganui 66km relay race early in September. This is a small town community event which Gerry and I have done a couple of times before as a team. But it can also done solo. It’s an official event and there’s timing, so it should count as a qualifier. Our only challenge will be support, as usually with teams there’s always a vehicle with water, sustenance etc, to support the team.

There are a number of nice looking ultras on the South Island, but going there for an event will set us back a $1000+ (excluding entry fee). We are particularly keen on the Crater Rim (85km in October), have been for many years, so are still thinking of going down for this. As a qualifier this will also be cutting it too thin, as there won’t really be another opportunity to run an ultra before the event, should we not make it before the cut-off, or have to pull out for whatever reason. Or if the race gets cancelled, which can certainly not be ruled out.

But back to our Sunday long-run. A number of other runners and walkers joined us on the 3.4km trail around the dams which made it more social and fun. Was great to see Scott and Dianne, Nina (and Brock on his bike), Stef, Rachael and the boys, and to meet Sandy and Rachel.

The trail around the reservoir was upgraded and officially opened in 2020. The pine tree forest was cut down and other trees were planted. Work is ongoing, and in fact a man on a small digger was working on an extended loop (which we did once, making the loop 4.5k) while we were there. Since it was Easter weekend, a number of Easter-themed boards with a hole to poke your face through and take a photo were placed around the trail. They must be aimed at kids (or very short people),

Quite a few other people were making the best of the good weather day by bringing the kids and dogs for a walk. We saw a few fishermen and at some point I counted 16 cars in the parking area.

With a toilet (hands down the cleanest/non-smelly long drop in the country), picnic areas, and a beautiful undulating trail, this makes the hour’s drive from Palmy worth the effort. Especially for a long-run. The aid station comes around every 3.4km, and running in circles has never been an issue for me. The shorter the loop and longer the overall distance, the better. It’s all about transcendence, isn’t it. Which brings to mind the Self-Transcendence race in Queens, New York – a 3,100 mile race around a half mile block. ‘Runners must average 59.6 miles per day in less than 52 days in order to be considered a finisher.’ [https://www.outsideonline.com/health/running/path-self-transcendence-begins-3100-miles/]

Which also brings to mind the marathon monks who run 52.5 miles for 100 consecutive days in order to achieve ‘enlightenment in the here and now.’ Perhaps totally unrealistic and unachievable, but nonetheless still bucket list items for me.

But for now, I’d be better off to focus my energy on running a half marathon at a 6min/km pace.

Onwards and upwards.

by

Footprints in the Sand – Foxton Beach nearly half marathon

Date: 12 March
Distance: Half marathon/20k (we measured 20.9k)
Time: 2:26.44

High tide was at 7am. The event started at 8am. Running out-and-back on a beach is challenging; and running on a beach with an incoming tide that gets progressively worse as the hours tick by, just added to the challenge. But that was all still perfectly fine.

From our house to the event is about a 50-minute drive. We decided to not preregister, as it seems to have become a case of if the event gets cancelled for whatever reason, you simply lose the money you paid upfront. Or most of it  So we’re now at the point where we rather pay more, but register/signup as late as possible. This is as terrible for me as a participant, as it is for the organisers as they can’t plan ahead. But this is the situation we’re at with events at the moment. With the task of still having to register, we had to leave extra early, and therefore had to get up extra early. On top of a few glasses of wine and a way too fatty roast the night before, this wasn’t easy. We had breakfast, Gerry made some coffee for the road, and we were off.

We’ve done this event before (two or three times?), and each time we’re only a few handfulls of participants in the half marathon. This time I counted 23, which included a single walker.

It was overcast and a cold wind was blowing as we signed up, and I decided there and then that I will keep my polyprop vest on top of two shirts. And still I was cold. All participants walked down to the beach for race briefing before the start.

It is now ten weeks since we started running regularly in an attempt to be ready for the 100 mile event in December, and it has been a struggle. The older I get the harder it is. But running 20k on your own, is hard, so doing it with others is far more enjoyable. Even if you run by yourself the whole way. Not that we are ever by ourselves, as Gerry and I always run together. But even so, I prefer doing it as part of something bigger, where you get to see other runners, even if only at a distance.

This specific event was one of those where I have no doubt that everyone ran negative splits. The cold wind was actually blowing a gale, coming nearly straight from the front. I was rowing and fighting and forcing myself forward, gasping for breath and thinking I’m going at a reasonable clip, only to find out my pace was nearly 7:30/k. I was hoping to average a 7min/k pace, but the main goal was to finish and jog the whole way, even if it was very slow. The seven and a half pace was perfectly fine – just surprising, as it felt like I was going much faster. Ideally I should be doing my long runs at a 7:30/k pace, even if that feels like a waste of time.

Fighting with a headwind for 10.5k was something else. I’m not fond of the wind at the best of times, but having to run into it, was just awful. Of course I could have run in Gerry’s slipstream, but that would have been cheating. Plus, facing adverse conditions builds gumption and character, right? After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached the turnaround point. I suddenly realised that the little stream we used to cross/jump in previous years, must have closed up as it wasn’t there anymore.

And boy was I glad we got to halfway and were heading back. Of course that same headwind was now a tailwind, making running infinitely easier. It didn’t take long before I was too warm and had to take off the polyprop. Quite amazing how having the wind in you face or in your back makes such a huge difference to the perceived temperature.

Happy to be over halfway and with a tailwind, we were going well. I was obviously fatiguing, still going slow-ish with running on the sand and all, but it felt much easier than on the way out. I kept thinking to myself that every kilometre done is one less to walk. Luckily I managed to run the whole way.

Despite being more fatigued on the second half, our splits were 1:17 for the first half, and 1:09 for the second half. It’s astonishing what a difference wind can make.

Relieved to be at the finish, we had a drink and time to catch up with some friends. The nicest part of this outing was all the familiar faces. Not that there is anything to fault about the event. It is well organiser, with water points at 2.5k, 5k and at the turnaround at 10.5, and of course you pass them again on the way back. Heaps of spot prizes (I’m pretty sure everybody got one), a fundraiser sausage sizzle for the fire brigade, and coffee cart. With a schools event, a 5k and 10k options, there were about 200 participants all up.

Unfortunately the weather plays a huge part in this event, and more often than not, the wind is a factor. Also, the beach is an open road, meaning there are cars and quad bikes, scramblers, and other nasties to look out for. It still takes me by surprise that people are allowed to drive on NZ beaches. Are there no living animals on the beaches here? No ecological damage cause by driving on beaches and in the sand dunes? Nevermind the fact that people can be run over!

You can tell – I’m not a supporter of beach driving. 🙂

Happy to have achieved my goal of running all the way, we made the trip back home for leftover lunch.

by

Sasolburg Stadium parkrun, followed by the Palmy parkrun

Date: 13 August 2022
Distance: 5km
Time: 28:15 (Gerry, 28:18)

Our final parkrun in South Africa during this visit was on the morning of our long commute back to NZ. Gerry’s mum and sister lives on the way back to the airport, so we got to quickly see them again for final goodbyes. Gerry’s nephew joined us for the run.

It was a beautiful warm morning, and as we were walking the almost 2k from where we stayed to the start, I could smell the scent of jasmine, which normally indicates that spring is in the air.

Due to SA being a semi-arid country, the hazy brown dusty layer that covers the country makes it look like the air quality is super bad, but it’s no worse than the big cities in other parts of the world, and usually makes for beautiful sunsets. Long before the sun sets, it is possible to look straight at the huge orange ball on the horizon.

As with the Inibos parkrun (only the 11th event), the Sasolburg Stadium parkrun is also reasonably new (this was it’s 18th run).

It starts/finishes at the Sasolburg Stadium, (DP de Villiers Stadium) and Sasolburg Rugby Club. According to the web, the ‘course is run entirely on trail paths. Some sections of the course may accumulate mud, leaves and puddles after rain.’

I was still tying my shoelaces when we were counted down for the start. After a couple hundred metres, Gerry’s nephew came past and disappeared up ahead.

We passed some runners and soon settled into a reasonable pace. From the clubhouse the course takes one out of the stadium for a 2k off-road loop before passing near the clubhouse and across the sports field for another loop of about 1k in the opposite direction. Back near the clubhouse, we had to repeat the first 2k loop before finishing in front of the clubhouse again.

Running with me, Gerry finished 17th overall (15th male and second in his age category), and I finished 16th overall, second female and first in my age category, out of 99 runners.

We walked the 2k back for some eggs, a shower, and final greetings and packing.

It has been a good month. I’m glad we made the trip. The visible ageing of our mums is sad and unnerving. During the month, shortly after we arrived, my cousin four years younger than me, had a massive heart attack and died, leaving behind a husband and teenage kids. The day before our return to NZ my mum’s older brother had heart failure.

Maybe I’m imagining things, but a lot of South Africans seem depressed, and are on some or other medication. There are even pharmacy vending machines everywhere. The mental shift from what was and what is, might be a tad too much of an ask for some. As with emigrants, there are people who tend to cling to the past, who try to recreate what they had before. Change is inevitable, and necessary. However, the identity crisis (existential crises) is a huge part of the problems in SA. Who are we? Where do we come from? People were brainwashed into voting for a government that only looked after its own kind, due to a belief that the land was promised to them by God. Deep rooted beliefs suddenly mean nothing and boys who fought in the war, suddenly realise it was all for nothing, or no obvious purpose? No wonder a lot of them goes off the rails with PSD and other mental disorders. But this is a subject matter for another day.

It is sad to leave, but I’m glad to be going home. And well done to the ABs for winning their second match at Ellis Park!

A week later, stil trying to get into the timezone of New Zealand, we decided to do the Palmy parkrun to see if the altitude makes any difference. Of course it makes a huge difference, and we managed a good run without feeling like our lungs want to fall out. I managed a 27:11, and Gerry was just cruising with me.