Running events

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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.

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It rained cats and dogs – Jumbo-Holdsworth trail run, Powell Hut volunteers

27-28 January 2023

As we were packing the car for the trip to Holdsworth carpark, it started to drizzle. The weather forecast for the weekend looked horrendous, and I thought the event might be cancelled before we even leave Palmy.

Ross and Kati decided to join us for the trip to Powell Hut, and we arranged to meet at the carpark. Our plan was to leave at about 12pm, meet them at 13:30, and walk the three odd hours to the hut.

The drizzle persisted on the drive there and as we started walking it just got worse. There was no wind and things started off reasonably hot, despite the drizzle. My sweat did not evaporate and after a few kilometres of walking uphill, I was soaking wet, both from being rained on and sweat. By the time we reached the Mountain House Shelter, we had to don rain jackets. The higher up we went, the thicker the mist (clag), and the bigger the raindrops.

As always, I’m surprised at how steep the last couple of kilometres are to the hut. After about 3:20 hours we reached the hut, wet and chilled. We went for one of bigger rooms, and changed into dry clothes before having some nibbles and drinks. As last time, Kati and Ross had a spread of note, to be washed down with some red wine. Unfortunately we only had olives and corn chips to add to the snacks.

Steve and Carol were already there as the other pair based at the hut, as well as Tony who was the lucky winner of the trig marshal spot, where we were based previously.

We poured a tipple just as Suzanne arrived. She volunteered as the first aider on the ridge between Powell Hut and part of the ridge, while another medic would be handling the other half of the ridge towards Jumbo Hut.

A few other people were also based at the hut: a pair of older friends, a mum with kids, and young hikers. We were all safe and warm inside the hut, while it was cold and super wet outside. No respite in the rain and every time you had to make a dash for the longdrop, you cussed a little.

Our party became more rowdy as the others all started going to bed. At some point Kati checked her phone, when the news arrived of a totally flooded Auckland Airport. In fact the whole of Auckland was flooded. The rain pelted down at 71mm per hour, more than ever before, and caused widespread carnage: cars were floating down the road, slips wiped out houses and left others teetering over the edge, numerous houses and businesses flooded, and thousands were left without power. Four people had died (drowned), and the forecast did not look favourable for the coming days.

I was almost certain the race would be cancelled. But having said that, two years ago we marshalled in similar wet, poor visibility and windy (less than this time) conditions on the ridge, except the temperatures were below zero from the snow the days before the event. It was one of the coldest outings of my life, and yet the race went ahead and everyone arrived safe back at the bottom where the weather was infinitely more favourable.

During the night it kept on raining. Not super hard, but consistent and at times a little bit harder. Little streams started to form on the path to the loo, and the wind started to pick up a bit.

At about 2am, another mum and daughter arrived. I was mostly still awake (couldn’t sleep for some reason), and contemplating the fact that I have to get up and make a dash for the longdrop in the dark, cold and wet weather to go pee. We were sleeping on the top bunkbed, and getting out of the sleeping bag and putting on extra layers was noisy. Suzanne, Kati, Ross and us shared the one room, and I thought we’d wake them all up.

But out and back in my cosy sleeping bag, after some more noise, I felt infinitely better. Finally I could sleep.

In the morning, Gerry made some tea to have with rusks, while we were all nervously waiting for the radio to crackle into action informing us that the race was called off. But still the call didn’t come.

Getting ready for the first arrivals, we put on thermals and puffers, beanies, buffs, rain jackets and rain pants. We sorted the camera, and I took shelter in the wood shed, ready to shoot some runners. With the clag, rain and generally poor conditions for photos, I wasn’t hopeful, but figured I might at least capture something of the action and drama as it was unfolding on the porch of the hut.

Kati and Ross decided to pack up, have breakfast, and head down. They had heaps to do before moving back to South Africa later that week.

Like wet chickens the first runners started to arrive. Using a stopwatch, Gerry was taking their times while Carol recorded their numbers. Some put on more layers, others filled up their water flasks, before heading further up the mountain to the ridge where Suzanne and Tony were. By now they had some time on the top to evaluate the situation. And taking a walk in the gale and sleet, Suzanne opted to make the call that the race be called off. It was dangerous in the super wet conditions to traipse along the ridge in gale force winds.

Quite a few runners had gone past us already, but all the new arrivals were informed to turn around. While some seemed relieved, others were disappointed. A few decided to hand over their race numbers and carry on at their own risk. The ones that had gone past the hut, were turned around by Suzanne and Tony. The runners going the other way around were turned back at Jumbo Hut.

It was over. The year that wasn’t meant to be.

We made a last cup of coffee, packed up and started heading down the mountain. Suzanne followed suit, and caught up with us within the first couple hundred metres. With everything being wet, puddles of water and some mud, we took the first very steep section slowly. Back at the Mountain House Shelter, we had a quick break and a bite to eat, before continuing down the mountain.

By the time we reached the event finish line (surprised that it took me 2:30) we were soaked to the bone. Gerry bought coffee at the cart, we had some event food, and walked the final few hundred metres back to the car. Gerry drove up to the toilet, we chatted to Salome and her friend Matt, swapped our wet clothes for dry ones, and drove back home.

Our cat, which I was worried about was of course perfectly fine and happy to be high and dry inside the house the past 28 hours, instead of fending for food and shelter in the wet stormy weather.

I started this post with a long report on our stray cat, but thought I’d rather stick to the mountain and event itself. But for the record, the story of the cat is as follows.

We have a stray cat. Actually we were feeding several in the first half of 2022 as I thought that might keep them from catching birds. Not sure if it helps, but that was my theory. Occasionally there would be a cat fight on the porch in the middle of the night, and before we could get out of bed and turn on the light to inspect what was going on, they would be gone.

At the time I was working as a trapper and we had just bought new field cameras for work. Doing some trials and testing them out was a great opportunity to see what was going on. We saw possums (multiple!) hang out around our Good Nature trap, every night, but they would avoid it like the plague. We’ve had that trap for about 8 years, locked and loaded, and it is yet to kill any pests.

After a few nights of watching possums, we decided to see what was going on on the porch at night. Turns out we were feeding three stray cats, and occasionally more than one would come for a feed at the same time causing a fight. But one of them outplayed the others and decided to move in.

I was worried about it being a girl and pregnant as it had huge boobs, and at other times I worried about a boy going chasing after girls and making more babies, worsening the cat problem. But then a vet friend came to visit and put our minds at ease – it was a boy and it had been neutered.

This stray cat is a rather big grey cat. It chose us, and started getting friendly with only us. When it hears an unfamiliar voice, it would run and hide under our bed. It spent most days on our couch or on the bed, and at around 8pm it would usually go outside for a galavant. Between two and four am it would meow outside, wanting to come back in. It felt like having a baby in the house – we would take turns to let it out and get back in again, often more than once during the night.

This has been going on for about nine months. Sometimes we might have to go away, having to lock it out. Early on we had to go away for a month, but after our return, Mr Cat returned on the second night, hovering by the door. The last time we had to go away for only one night, kitty got all anxious, following us around the house, looking nervous and not wanting to go outside. Eventually we had to boot him out and close the door. Poor bugger.

This time, he again detected that something was up, and decided to sneakily hide in the far corner under the bed. I checked under the bed and called minutes before, when Gerry had one last look, only to find kitty hiding. Perhaps he knew what was coming weather wise, but I felt sorry for him and decided to let him be. With enough food and water to last him a few days, we locked him inside and were off on our marshalling trip. We were only away for a bit more than a day, and he probably hardly noticed we were gone. However, we need to put in a cat flap or something, so that Mr can come and go as he pleases.

Another item on the never-ending to-do list.

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The UTK (Ultra Trail Kosciuszko) that wasn’t

I thought perhaps I should just write a follow-up about our plan to run the 100 mile event in 2022.

Maybe because it is a new event and to entice participants into entering super early (it worked!), the event had the option to carry over your entry at no cost to the next year should you not be able to do it for whatever reason. And back doors are dangerous – when there’s a back door, one is almost guaranteed to take it.

In our defence we did try. We started with a bang and were doing very well for a few months, slowly building up fitness. Then my mum got sick, and we had to make the trip back to the motherland. Travelling around the world, and back and forth between our families for more than a month, took its toll. What was meant to be a crucial time in our buildup, ended up being a next to no training month. Coupled with all the stress of travelling, missing a connecting flight due to a stuff up by Qantas with the first flight, and having to postpone everything by a week, rearrange and rebook everything, eventually arriving without luggage, the stress of a sick parent, and the list goes on, training was the absolute last thing on my mind. Plus, that back door was wide open.

Arriving back, exhausted, to horrible weather (it seems to be getting worse) – non-stop wind and sideways rain – our enthusiasm for the inaugural event was all but gone. So we made the call to transfer our entries to this year. It is not a good decision to have to make. One’s self-esteem takes a knock and you feel like a failure.

Following the proceedings leading up to the event on FB, I was met with a mix of FOMO and relief. It was snowing up in the mountain in the weeks leading up to, and still a few days out from, the event and it started to look like the compulsory gear would have to be next level. Some lack of communication and other hick-ups by the organisers – GPX files were not made available and final course maps were not shared until the last minute, perhaps because the course had to be changed TWICE due to snow and safety of runners, details about aid stations, drop bags, pacers, support crew, etc – resulted in participants getting anxious and angry. Tonnes of entries were sold off and transferred, and things were looking to be in a bit of a shambles. At the same time, those who stuck to it could boast to be hardcore, have grit, and able to deal with whatever life throws at them. Ultimately, I suspect the course routes need some serious rethinking and replanning for the years to come.

But, fingers crossed, we can get our act together and line up at the start end of this year. We bought a new watch. The Suunto 9 Peak Pro to replace the old one of more than eight years. It was time. And with new gear comes renewed enthusiasm. We have a rough idea of what we need to do, and where we need to be with our training each month. The overall aim is to get out the door six days a week, to build up slowly, never to skip the long-run, walk heaps, and do the occasional speed session. On top of that, we have to start focusing on strength training and flexibility. My buggered hips and misalignment need all the help they can get.

To 2023! May it be a good year for health and fitness.

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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.

Egweni River Lodge parkrun (Parys, Free State)
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Egweni River Lodge parkrun (Parys, Free State)

Date: 6 August 2022
Distance: 5km
Time: 29:29

Another family outing, this time with Gerry’s mum, sisters’ families and kids, and their children (four generations), brought us to Parys (Paris) next to the Vaal River. According to Wikipedia ‘The name was given by a German surveyor named Schilbach who had participated in the siege of Paris during the Franco-Prussian War and the location next to the Vaal reminded him of Paris on the River Seine. The area of Parys also includes the two townships Tumahole and Schonkenville. www.parys.co.za‘.

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