Training

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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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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.

by

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. 😉

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Transcend 40km walk-jog

Date: 22 June
Distance: 40k
Time: 7:52

This is one of those ‘bastard’ events: it is not a marathon distance, but almost, and it is not an official walk-only event as stated on the website, you are allowed to run. Twice (on email and in person) the organiser confirmed that this is a do-what-you-want kind of event. The only issue is that if you run too fast, you might arrive at the aid station before they are set up, as they are timed to cater for the 65km runners.  The latter started an hour earlier than us, some 25km further up the track.

The  unfortunate thing about running at a ‘walking’ event is that other participants who don’t know that this is the case, treat you like a criminal. It is not a sanctioned event and there is no prizes or acknowledgement for participants who placed. It’s just an event. Do what you want, which is fantastic when you’re not super fit, or coming back from injury. The 40km event had 13 hours to finish, while the 65km event had 14 hours.

The 65km trail run is the main event, which we initially wanted to do when we started making plans to go to Perth a couple of months ago, but we soon realised we were in no state to do that. I’ve signed up for ultras when I really shouldn’t have before, and have managed to wing it. In hindsight I was obviously in a better place than is currently the case. I just knew that attempting the 65km was not going to end well.

Apart from the 65km, they included this 40km ‘walk’, a 6km trail run, and a kids dash.

During the week leading up to the event, Gerry attended a conference which ran over three days and four evenings. It started late Monday afternoon, and finished Thursday evening.

As we were staying near the city centre, I didn’t want to drive around on my own, so we decided to walk to and from the University of Western Australia where the conference was held. I opted to sit in the nearby cafeteria and work on my dissertation during the day. This meant that we walked 10km each day, which was better than nothing. There was no time in the day left to go for a run.

On Wednesday night, after the day’s conference proceedings, there was the gala dinner and awards ceremony where Gerry had to take some photos. It was also my birthday, and for the first time in 55 years I was by myself, on the fifth floor of an old block of flats, cooking dinner and having some bubbly. Another first for me – having a drink by myself. I’m definitely much more of a social drinker.

We were hoping to get our mandatory gear checked before the event at the Tribe & Trail shop, which was a 15min drive from our accommodation. Plus we still needed to buy a few things like a ‘specific snake bandage’. We hadn’t even started to think about sustenance for the event.

Tribe & Trail wasn’t open on the Friday, and Gerry was keen to attend the Thursday’s proceedings, so he opted to skip part of the Wednesday afternoon’s talks for us to get the event things sorted. After our gear was checked (our ‘snake’ bandage didn’t pass the test so we had to buy two from the shop at AU$10.50 each), we went for coffee and a huge slice of cake at a nearby beachfront restaurant as a quick birthday celebration.

Friday morning, we did laundry while vacating the flat for the trip to our next accommodation. It was a bit closer (about 2km away) to the event base at the Swan Valley Adventure Centre, and just as well as it took nearly an hour to drive out of the city to the holiday park. I did not envy the local runners who had to make that trip in the morning. Especially the 65km runners who started at 6:30am. Those who took the bus to the start, had to be at the event base at 5:15am. We started an hour later so caught the bus at 6:10am.

After we checked in and settled in our cabin, we went to the nearest supermarket to buy food for the event. I tried to remember what we usually eat on the run, as it has been a while since we’ve run/walked for 8+ hours. It was a bit of a hemming and hawing, backwards and forwards in the shop, but eventually we got a good range of flavours and textures. It is only 40km after all.

We tried to figure out how much to pack in our hydration vests, and how much to put in the drop bag. We opted to have a drop bag at the end of the second leg (the 40km covered the final three legs of the 65km which had five legs), with dry socks, a clean handkerchief and headband, and more food in case needed. Having a gluten intolerance means I can often not eat what’s on offer at the aid stations. We searched through all the jelly sweets in the supermarket, and couldn’t find any that didn’t contain gluten. Ditto for crisps.

A week before the event the weather forecast looked like it might rain all day. During the week the forecast changed to heavy rain in the morning, clearing during the day, with rain again from the late afternoon. We brought rain pants with and I was contemplating wearing them if it was going to be that wet. Wind was also in the forecast, and quite strong to boot also from the afternoon. Someone mentioned somewhere that it was only 4°C the year before (turns out it was only early morning – the sun came out and the day was perfect).

At registration the night before, I couldn’t believe how ‘big’ and sorted the event was. A good assortment of food stuffs were available outside the hall. Even a mobile wood fired pizza cart. The pizzas looked fantastic. People were mulling around, chatting, eating and generally seemed happy and content with life.

We got our race bags with bibs, an event t-shirt and headband, and queued for the GPS trackers. These were quite big and weighed a bit. It was almost like a normal GPS device, with the option of a distress button. Outside the main hall, we waiting by the food carts (very tempting) for the next showing of the welcoming and race briefing video in the hall next door. One of the organisers were present with additional information, and to answer questions. With all the boxes ticked, we went home to cook dinner, have a shower, and try to go to bed early.

During the night/early morning (4am) when I first looked out the door it had started to rain. Admittedly I wasn’t looking forward to spending the whole day in the rain. I had no idea what the terrain would be like or how fast we might be able to move. All I knew was that there were loads of stairs, and the elevation was 1620m for the 40km. Even though that was quite a lot, I still thought it might be comparable with the North Range ultra which had similar elevation, but over a 50k distance (which wasn’t that tough). I guess 10km shorter makes a massive difference to a similar elevation, as this was next level steep, especially given my current state.

As we drove to the event base in the dark before 6am, it rained. Arriving at a almost deserted carpark, apart from runners huddled under a roof to avoid the rain, it was calm, quiet, and not much wind. It was cool, but not super cold. I even decided to leave my small thin down jacket, which is very unusual for me – I always take them as they weigh next to nothing and make a huge difference. I still had two t-shirts (a body hugging second skin, and a normal one), a polypropylene vest (plus a spare in my pack) and my rain jacket. But no gloves and no beanie, as Perth is apparently really not super cold in winter.

The bus arrived on the dot at 6:10am and waited another few minutes for some late comers. The rainy trip to the start at Walyunga Scenic Lookout took a wee while, so we decided to download the GPX file for the course. This was totally unnecessary as the course was marked very well. We arrived shortly before 7am and were dropped off near the lookout in the Avon Valley National Park in the rain (on private land?) by a shed with fires going outside in metal drums. One of these fires were also used shortly before the start for the welcoming and smoking ceremony by the local indigenous Aboriginal people for safe passage. The smell of the smoke was so familiar and comforting, and confirmed why I love sitting outside by a fire so much. I have wonderful memories relating to outside fires, and it always makes me feel at home.

Still raining at 7:30am we were off without much of the typical race fanfare. Judged by the race coverage (and video online), it was a different story for the 65km runners. We were about 50 participants, while the 65km field had 150 runners. Overall not a big event by numbers, but man oh man, it is a huge event. It kicked the arse of big events like Tarawera and UTA in terms of everything, from online entries, registration, gear checking, merchandise, to the actual course, volunteers, aid stations,.and finish line celebrations.

First leg (3rd for the 65km) – 12km, 2:22
Nissen Hut, Paruna Sanctuary

After a 400m walk along a gravel road (which placed us right in front of the pack without much effort), we started following a track going downhill. Halfway down, we had to stop as my shoelace came undone. I was still going to do them up before we started, but was so relaxed I forgot about it. A few of the other participants came past us running, and we decided to followed suit at a very slow pace for very short stints as the terrain just wasn’t conducive to running, for me. Some stairs (muddy and filled with water) took us down to out first creek crossing. And then the climbing started. Heaps of stairs that slowed me down to a snails pace took us to a high point. Only to go straight down again, followed by another straight up and down again. And that was more or less the format of the first leg. Except, after the first set of stairs going up the mountain, the remaining ups and downs looked like we were using fire roads, going straight up and down instead of following a contour or having switchbacks. Since these were very steep both up and down, I found it impossible to run, especially for my current unfit, unconditioned state.

So even though we jogged small bits here and there, I was forced to walk the bulk of the course. All up I doubt that we jogged more than 5km of the 40km.

Needless to say, my legs were completely shattered after the first 12km. I stumbled into the aid station and wasn’t sure how I was actually going to finish the 40km, if things didn’t improve drastically. We checked in, filled one bottle with coke and the other with water, took a mandarin and pear for the road, quickly downed a Red Bull, and were on our way again. The rain finally stopped not long before, and we could take off our rain jackets which were soaked inside and out.

Second leg (4th for the 65km)– 16.5km, 3:10
Valley Camp Ground, AVNP (Avon Valley National Park)

The second leg follows the Avon River and railway line. It is undulating, with a few short sharp ups and downs. This could have been a running leg for the most part, had I been in better condition. My muscles were so buggered that I started to look like I was walking on eggs.

The sun was out, and so was the wind, especially in certain parts of the valley. The first 65km runners started to pass us. We followed a 4WD track, with a short section through a rocky and tree fallen patch, before joining up with the Jeep track again.

Arriving at the aid station, a volunteer brought over our drop bag (drop bags were an option at all the aid stations, and we decided to make use of this one). We still had enough food, but I was keen to swop socks for a thinner pair. My feet were quite swollen and I could feel a black toenail coming on.

I’ve lost my big toenails more times than I care to remember. A friend once told me that you only get seven new ones, and then it won’t grow back again. Haha. I can confirm that he was just pulling my leg. The last time I lost one, was in 2015 at the Tarawera 100k run. It took more than eight years to grow back. It was only last year that it started to look normal again. I knew it wasn’t. It hadn’t grown back all the way to the front and was thicker than it used to be. But it looked ‘normal’. This toe was so swollen that I knew the nail might come off again.

After peeling some mandarins for the road, Gerry had some baking and jelly sour sweets, before we were off on the last leg.

Third leg (5th for the 65km) – 12.5km, 2:20
Finish Cobbler Pool

Shortly after a steep downhill on a muddy 4WD track we started on a 4km relentless uphill. It was more gradual than any of the other uphills, and should be runnable if you’re fit.

But of course, what goes up, must come down, and we were again treated to some very steep downhills followed by more uphills. Worst part was that after the first 4km on the gravel road, we were walking through farmland with no trail. It was cambered and rough in places, and being totally buggered by then didn’t help.

We passed a small aid station for the 6km runners, and took another Red Bull for the last few kilometres. We could hear the finish line celebrations in the distance, and I just wanted it to be over.  Naturally the finish was on an uphill, but I was just glad to have made it in under eight hours.

This is a super tough run, and I’m very glad we didn’t enter the 65km run. Gerry had Covid again some time back, coupled with some other things that derailed our training, so we opted for the walk. How hard can it be? Well, let me tell you, it was ridiculously tough. I did not expect that. Since we walk more than we run the past few months, I thought I should be okay. And was it a flattish marathon on the road, I would have been fine, and might even have managed to finish in under six hours. But the 1632m elevation over 40km took its toll. I was not ready for that, and definitely not used to tough terrain, let alone wearing a hydration vest.

Apart from a handful of pademelons on grassy patches, and some ants, I didn’t seen any other animals. We could hear birds, more in some places than others, and it was obvious a trapping program was in place, judged by all the catch-traps out on the course.

The first bus (which we booked) only arrived ten hours after the 40km start, so we had to wait two hours for it. Initially I thought we would take a shower and hang around enjoying the party at the finish line, but I was too buggered to move. I parked myself in a sunny spot, as it was getting chilly in the final hours of the day, while Gerry collected the complimentary glass of beer. Unfortunately they didn’t have any cider (as promised) so Gerry had both mine and his. He also bought us fries and coffee to try and keep warm.

The drop-bags hadn’t arrived back at the finish line yet, so we had to make another plan to get it. If I had one complaint, or could make one suggestion, it would be to bring back all the used drop-bags in time for the first bus. Instead, they were taking everything back to Tribe & Trail after the event, which wasn’t open on the Sunday or Monday. Since we left for NZ the Monday evening, Gerry had to make special arrangements to collect it from the shop owner’s house.

On the bus taking us back to the event base, the most gorgeous full moon accompanied us. It was dark already and the trip took about an hour and a half. Once back, we went to the nearest Indian for take-aways, still covered in mud and smelling from a distance. Back home, we had a quick shower, poured a glass of wine, and had left-over salad with the curry.

It was my first ‘run’ in a new age group, and one that confirmed I have a lot of work to do in terms of mobility, stretching and strengthening before our next trail ultra, not to mention run training.

The event had no medals, but instead you plant a tree. Every participant also had to pick up five pieces of rubbish, and raise AU$20 for the Australian Wildlife Conservancy (thanks Nina for donating the money!) As a textile artist I focused my efforts on textile rubbish.

by

Baldwins Bluff Trail

Date: 16 June
Distance: 10km
Time: 1:30

After our parkrun, we visited some art galleries in Perth, had lunch, washed down with beer/cider at Picabar, bought some food for two days, before heading south out of Perth. It was about an hour’s drive into the ‘heart of the captivating Darling Ranges’, when we arrived at the Serpentine Falls Tasman Holiday Park where we stayed a couple of nights. It was already late afternoon, so we poured a glass of vino and started with dinner.

During the night I thought I heard raindrops. But in the morning it was sunny and another gorgeous day greeted us. Rain was forecasted, so we decided to drive the scenic route through the Serpentine National Park. By 10am it was clouded over and a soft rain started to fall. At the historic town of Jarrahdale we stopped at the Jarrahdale Local PO Kitchen for coffee and lemon tart. The air smelt clean and everything was covered in a shiny wet layer. Tourists, locals and a biker gathering had the cafe buzzing with patrons on this Sunday morning.

The narrow road winds it’s way through eucalyptus (jarrah), in red and rocky soil. I was surprised to not have seen a echidna yet. The environment reminded me of our first venture into Australia (Tasmania) when we saw our first echidna. I was intrigued to read about their 4-headed penises (which are not used to urinate!).

A few more sightseeing stops in the rain, including a visit to the Serpentine Dam, and we completed the round trip back at our accommodation for lunch.

Gerry had to finalise his poster for the conference, and as soon as that was done, we went for a jog-walk to Serpentine Falls and the Baldwin Bluff trail. It was nearly half-4pm, and the sun would be setting in a couple of hours, which was a minor concern. But not enough to deter us.

From our accommodation it is 1.6km to the parking area. We walked the first kilometre which was next to the road, before starting on a slow jog into the park. From the parking area we jogged the 400 metres to the falls where massive swimming holes are located. The water was dark and looked eerie, but clean and almost inviting (if you’re that way inclined). Strangely enough, we are five days out from the shortest day of the year, and the temperature was warm and comfortable (19 degrees C). I can imagine people might go for a swim, even at this time of year.

After the quick in and out to the falls, we took on the Baldwin Bluff Trail which went in the opposite direction from the falls out of the carpark. It is a 6km trip out-and-back, meaning the first three are mostly uphill. There were bits of downhill and the last kilometre was flat-ish with just a minor ascent, totally runnable.

Underfoot was quite rocky, and my old self – watching out for snakes underfoot – kicked in immediately. There were a number of other people making their way up the hill, but mostly people were coming down the track back to the carpark, as it closes for vehicles at 5pm. We were huffing and puffing going uphill to the lookout as fast as we can. With all the action, snakes would presumably have scurried away anyway.

At the far end, we saw a pademelon pair grazing on the foliage. We could see the campsite where we stayed down below in a distance, about 5km away (only two as the crow flies).

We started on the downhill, which went a bit quicker than going uphill, although the tripping hazard slowed me down to the occasional walk. We reached the completely deserted carpark at around 5pm, and had a sip of water before heading out of the park. The last kilometre (as with the first one) we walked along the road from the park gate back to the accommodation.

It is a lovely trail, and I’m happy we could fit it in before dark.