#dontforgettotrainnexttime – Tarawera Ultra

Date: 9 February 2019
Distance: 50km
Time: 8:48
Previous: 2015, 2016

It’s our third outing to Rotorua for the Tarawera Ultra Marathon, and I can (almost) safely say – don’t do the even numbered years! The weather is always miserable, and raining which means the course turns into a tougher-mudder in these years. 🙂 This year, again, saw a gorgeous, sunny day with little wind. It was likely a bit on the hot side for most, but being in the bush means you are mostly protected from the sun. And I’m the last person to complain about heat. Continue reading

Coppermine creek and coppermine loop track

We’ve been very slack lately with our running. More often than not, we’d skip a run. There’s always something, isn’t there? Cutting grass, tending the vege garden, raising baby guinea fowl, studies, work, and before you know it, another weekend rolls around, you’ve had one run during the week and have no plans, nor energy for your long-run on the weekend. You promise yourself you’ll start anew on Monday, and so the process repeats itself. It’s a slippery slope, but in my defence I do stick to this half-arsed routine, rather than giving up all together. Continue reading

Around the mountain circuit – Mt Taranaki

Date: 29 December 2018 to 2 January 2019
Distance: Approx 52km
Time: 5 days

Circumnavigating Mt Taranaki (Mt Egmont) has been on our radar for quite some time. Somehow, there’s always something else that gets priority, but this year we decided it is now or never.

Taranaki Maori legend has it that “While Tongariro was away, Taranaki wooed and won Tongariro’s wife, the graceful Pihanga. Tongariro returned at sunrise to find the guilty pair and in the struggle that followed Taranaki was banished. Taranaki retreated to the west coast of the North Island, carving the course of the Whanganui River as he went and filling it with his tears. He then moved North to his present location.

To this day, Taranaki gazes silently at his lover and his river. Pihanga still loves Taranaki and sighs when she thinks of him. Taranaki, when covered in mist, is said to be weeping for his lost love. Meanwhile, the enraged and jealous husband, Mt Tongariro smoulders with fury”. [Ref. Manky Maps] Continue reading

Tail-end Charlies for A2E – Hip hip hurrah!

Date: 18 November 2018
Distance: 21.1km
Time: 3:24.02

We arrived exhausted from gardening work the previous day at the club-rooms to take the bus to the start in Ashhurst. It was again as in previous years overcast and cool, necessitating carrying a lot of additional clothes. The thing with being tail-end is, you can go at slow walking pace, which means you don’t ever warm up. Apart from rain-jackets and an extra polyprop (which I donned even before the start), we also had to carry the first aid kit, as well as water and some snacks for ourselves. Just as well, as the third water point was packed up and gone by the time we passed through. And not only was the water point gone, so was the only toilet on the Bridle Track/walkway! I realise volunteers don’t want to wait all day for the last participant, but to pack up the aid on course before the last participants come through is just unacceptable. Unless, of course, there’s a cut-off point on course and the participant missed that. Continue reading

Hill repeats with weights – Aorangi Undulator marshalling duties on the mountain ridge above Washpool Hut

Another year of not doing this event, but this time we opted to marshal. I’ve always been  partial to multi-day runs, which is maybe why I also love tramping so much. So while we were in no state to participate, we thought it would be nice to experience a wee bit of the event at some level. Event organiser Chris Martin (aka Martini) agreed to have us, and placed us at the peak of the fourth “undulation”about 2-3km above Washpool Hut in the Aorangi Ranges. The Aorangi Undulator comprises of a 100km event (the A100), run over the three days, and a one day event of about 32km, which is also the middle day of the A100 – the day we marshalled. Continue reading