This weekend is going to be an interesting one to say the least, as I set out to traverse the Tararua ranges from the north to the south, in under 24 hours to become the latest member of the SK Traverse Sub 24 club.

By doing so, I'll be achieving a goal that has been bouncing around in my head for at least the last three years (see this tweet), and simultaneously reaching a bunch of 'firsts' with respect to distance traveled, time on feet, elevation gained and, in all likelihood, amount of pain felt in a single run.

The fact that I'm on the verge of doing this within the next couple of days is a slightly odd feeling. I've thought about it for so long, and even when I'd planned to do it this summer, I wasn't sure if I was really serious about it. As previous summers had come and gone, I'd started all of them with the idea that I may be able to give it a crack then, but as it turned out, I fairly quickly dismissed any possible opportunity for an attempt due to many reasons, most of them encapsulated in the thought that I just "wasn't ready".

This summer may have gone the same way, but for the fact that I was forwarded an email by another potential SK assailant, Karl Yager, who stated his similar 'maybe/maybe not' intentions. They say a "burden shared is a burden halved", so having someone else to share the pain in training, the load of logistics and ultimately, to share the experience was something that we both gravitated towards and soon we became each others enablers and decided to give the route a shot together.
_{^{Maungahuka Hut with it's namesake peak in the background - just over halfway on the SK. Mt Hector, the highest point in the traverse, way in the background to its right.}}

Alas, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry, and in this case, they went rather sideways. Just before Christmas, with a date set, logistics sorted and excitement building, Karl messaged me with bad news. He exclaimed that he'd broken his hip in a fall while training, that there was to be no SK for him when we planned to do it, and the first opportunity for him to run again would be 8 weeks away. My first thought was utter anguish for Karl. I have experienced first hand being robbed of the chance to fulfill something you've worked so hard for right before you do it, that was last year when I contracted food poisoning the night before the Tarawera Ultra-marathon. Its a feeling like you've been ripped off of something more than a tangible asset. You've been denied an experience, and an epic one at that, and you'll never get that back. Now the situation is slightly different, because I have no doubt Karl will bounce back and make an attempt on the SK as soon as it's feasible, but in this case, our joint venture was at an end, and I had to set about preparing to do it on my lonesome.

That mindset has been more difficult to come to terms with than I imagined. Leading up to this weekend I had some training goals I wanted to reach, and in the course of doing so, was constantly battling myself as to whether or not I was ready for such a massive endeavour.

_{^{The Tararuas on a good day. Looking south from Herapai towards East Peak. I will be traversing this section in the dark.}}

Even just at the start of this week, I had written it all off completely only to change my mind again after writing down specifics as to what I was worried about and what the actual reality of things were. All the things that I thought were reasons for not doing this, while fair enough in context of someone who isn't prepared and fit enough, were just excuses, and missing the point of why I want to do this in the first place.

I do have many reasons for attempting the 24 hour SK Traverse, and I'll be the first to admit that a lot of them are fanciful and wishy-washy, but if I was to pick one that stands out more than others, the reason I want to do this is that I just absolutely love the Tararuas and the challenges they pose. The experiences I've had in the Tararuas are always special, and I know that the SK being the ultimate challenge the Tararuas have to offer, I'll be experiencing the awesome mountain range in its entirety that is going to test me like nothing I've ever done before.

There is every chance I could fail at this of course. The notorious Tararua weather, my knee that's been playing up, and the fact it's the longest endurance effort I've undertaken with so many unknowns, could all cause me to curl up into a ball and cry until a helicopter picks me up. But that is not the plan, and I'm going to work as hard as I can to complete this. There are very few bail out points, and the last one of those at the top of Bridge Peak offers you a left or a right turn. Turning right takes you to Otaki and shopping. Turning left takes you to Kaitoke and glory.

It's going to be a massive adventure, right on my door step, and I cannot wait. NO SLEEP 'TIL KAITOKE!
_{^{Design by Seanoa Isaac for the Big Sunday Run Group}}

Notes: I plan to set off at 3.30am Sunday the 15th - finishing approx 1.30 Monday 16th, at the very least by 3.30am - all things going to plan.
You can follow my progress via a Spot Tracker here
https://trackme.kiwi/event/publicview/44

More info on the SK Traverse here.
https://tararuafkt.wordpress.com/

The Tararua Ranges look a little different today, a little emptier.

They’re still a labyrinth of lush forests criss-crossed with babbling creeks and rivers, and incredible peaks and vistas crowned with vast sheets of rain, but it’s quieter today, as if it knows it has lost a true friend. That might be because the mighty range mourns the death of one of the greatest men ever to tread upon its steep and gnarled ridges.

Colin Rolfe passed away suddenly on the night of 24 October 2017, and with that he transforms from living legend, into immortal of the hills that I so revere.

Colin was a man that was larger than life, who made the lofty peaks of the Tararuas look incredibly small. Most will remember him as a man with colossal quads, but an even bigger heart. So many of us do what we do in those hills because of Colin and his inspiration, and for that, we will never be able to thank him enough.

Colin’s feats, whether they be races, adventures, or the camaraderie that so many shared with him, will always echo through the Tararuas.

Rest in peace Colin

^{(Photos courtesy of Jumbo-Holdsworth Trail Race)}

Colins account of his 24 hour SK Challenge - https://tararuafkt.wordpress.com/fkt-reports/colin-rolfe-report-1995/
Colin talking about the SK - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=URLbA6YZ6OM

One year ago I ran the Aorangi Undulator, an incredibly technical 33km mountain race held in the Wairarapa, for the first time. That race turned out to be one of the worst running performances I've ever had - and I'll never forget it.

Fast forward to the Saturday just been, and it was a completely different story, with the race going so incredibly well that, this time, I will gladly be remembering that day for all the right reasons.

So as the Ongaonga is still tingling in my thighs, and while everything is still fresh in my mind, here is my race report from Saturday.

The event

As mentioned in the intro, the course is noted as 33km in distance. And while that is a fair distance to run at the best of times, there are some very good reasons why the tagline for the event is not being over dramatic when it states 'It's not for the weak'.

Being called the 'Undulator', the course sends you point to point over 4 fairly large distinct climbs, with the accompanying steep descents following after each of them. Nothing about the trail itself is easy. Ninety five percent of this course is what I would call 'technical' to 'difficult', and a lot of it you have to keep an eye out for where it leads, as it can be fairly indistinct in a lot of places.

_{^{An example of part of the track - taken by Pete Marshall- Own work, CC BY-SA}}

The terrain you encounter is incredibly varied, as you run through riverbeds, into and out of gorges, across muddy sidles, over narrow ridges, through ongaonga, down loose scree, up root covered spurs, down root covered spurs, through a place called 'gorse alley' and finally plummet down 200m of DoC installed steps to run through another riverbed to the finish.

It's all good stuff.

Last year I'd entered it because, having tramped the route before a couple years earlier, I figured I was now fit enough to be able to conquer it with my reacquainted mountain running abilities. I had a lot of confidence going into that day, however I was not even halfway in when that confidence was knocked completely out of me and it was very apparent that it was going to be a very tough day. It turns out that the amount of training I had been doing, while a reasonable amount, was no way near enough to 'conquer' that course, and much suffering ensued.

The route spat me out, cramping all over, cursing this and that and ready to pass out, a little over six hours and twenty four minutes after starting, and while I had fun in some ways, I was fairly miserable about what had transpired.

So I was beaten that day - but I was not to be deterred. I immediately decided I would learn from the mistakes and experiences of the race and enter again a year later to turn the feeling of crushing defeat into one of joy and elation. I'm not sure I one hundred percent believed myself when I'd decided that - but like a cold beer on a hot day, you have to give it a crack don't you.

The Race

I woke up in my tent earlier than I'd hoped to, thanks to a magnificent dawn chorus by the wonderful amount of birdlife around the Putangirua Pinnacles where I'd camped the night. One of the main reasons the race is run is to support the Aorangi Restoration Trust, which does superb work in erradicating pests in the park and restoring the native flora and fauna to the area (even bats!). The birdsong of that morning was a testament to the hard work the trust does, and I'm more than happy that my race fee goes towards such an endeavour.

_{^{Dawn at Putangirua Pinnacles campground - taken by Andrew Thompson - Own work, CC BY-SA}}

The sun rose over the hills while I was just finishing my porridge and coffee. There was not a cloud in the sky and I could tell today was going to be a hot one. I was starting to think perhaps I should have asked to start at 7am like I'd heard Danny Garrett and Chris Swallow were doing, but it was a bit late now, so I headed out to the road to stick my thumb out to hitch my way to the 9am start I was placed in.

It wasn't long before a group of very typical Wairarapa fishermen picked me up on their way to Ngawi. It was in an even shorter amount of time that they declared me mad as I explained what I was up to that morning. I guess you could not find something more opposite to a relaxing morning out fishing than a 33k mountain race. But they were good buggers, and we had some laughs about crappy boat engines and fishing stories, until we got to Ngawi where they were stopping, so I started walking down the road to the Mangatoetoe River mouth which was about 3 k's away.

As luck would have it, I didn't have to walk the whole way, as I was soon picked up by an 8am starter, Martin Durney, and his partner. There was no discussion about being insane this time, just excitement about what the day had in store for us. It was good to get to the start early, to just relax and watch the 8am wave start and catch up with the organiser, Chris Martin (Martini) and some of the other helpers I knew.

As we neared closer to the 9am wave start, aka the fast guys wave (minus Chris and Danny), a group of us all introduced ourselves to each other and started chatting about the course and what to look out for. It was a neat moment of camaraderie as we shared what info we could, and I explained a couple of helpful tips that might come in handy to the guys who hadn't run it before.

_{^{Photo from Last years start - taken by Jan Ducnuigeen - Own work, CC BY-SA}}

And before long, after a rousing speech by Martini, we were off up the river.
I soon found myself in third, sitting alongside someone I'd just met at the start, Karl Yager, with Sam Hansby in front of me, and Angus Watson out on front of him. As we made our way up the river, crossing here and there, it looked like the two in front were really pushing, so I was conscious to check my effort and felt I should dial back a tiny bit. Very soon we came to a bit where there was a hidden 4WD track on the side of the riverbank, which last year I missed, but thanks to checking out Tim Sutton's strava course from last year and confirming with Martini, I knew to look for this year.
I told Karl to follow me, and it helped us gain a lot of time on the guys in front who were dipping in and out of the river and having to navigate over the rocky edges.

Very soon we caught up to Sam and Angus, who weren't sure where the track went when we got to Mangatoetoe hut. So now a pack of 4 had formed, with Angus and Sam occasionally getting away, but then Karl and I would reel them in again as they'd make slight wrong turns and have to double back. This part of the course is very unforgiving if you're out in front and not sure of the way, as we were all about to find out.

About 4k into the race, I was sitting behind Angus, and we both saw an orange DoC marker, and what 'seemed' like a trail heading left. Unfortunately, I don't think either of us looked right, and we went past the track which dipped down into the stream. Sam and Karl followed and when we hit an area that looked uncertain, groupthink sunk in and we didn't make the right decision about where to go, which should have been 'backwards'. We hared around for about 4-5 minutes looking for the track, and thankfully found it again. Fairly annoyed, I decided that I might just sit back, and run on my own, to get myself back into a comfortable headspace and concentrate on my own navigation.

This worked a treat, once I was on my own, I started to get into a state of flow and was really enjoying the situation as I headed up the first climb. I could hear the other guys talking up the hill not too far in front, so I was still in touch and feeling fresh - it felt like the plan was coming together.

After the first climb, I got the first sense that today was going to be my day as I started descending down some near vertical downhill sections rather effortlessly and with great confidence - some cycling gloves I'd bought for this very purpose were doing their trick! Not long after that I had some of that confidence wiped away by a section that I think is the hardest of the course, a gorge that runs down to Kawakawa hut.

Again there is really no track here, just the odd bit on the side here and there, but for the most part you are rock hopping or wading through the river as you pick your way down to the valley. It is very slow going, as you cannot ever gather enough momentum to run, and I felt like I was losing so much time through this section as my effort to move fast felt so stunted.
I also ended up both bashing my ankle bone and getting two thigh-fuls of ongaonga before I got out of the gorge, so by the time I made it out to the track that lead to the hut, I was well over it and I had the disturbing thought that perhaps today was going to be just as horrible as last year.

_{^{Photo down the dreaded gorge - taken by Pete Marshall - Own work, CC BY-SA}}

As I got to the hut though, my mood became more positive. It was great to see two mountain runners I respect a lot marshalling at Kawakawa, Tim Sutton and Dave Allen, and after first swearing abuse about the gorge, I asked them how far I was behind the others. Turned out to be only 2-3 minutes, which was nothing at this point, so I grabbed some jet planes and got my run on again.

Halfway up the next undulation I ran into Karl, who looked to have stopped to sort out his backpack. He explained that the other two had got away from him, so he sat in behind me and we ran together chatting away about various mutual interests and having a general good time out in the bush. It was fun to run the next hour with Karl, and I think we both got benefit from making solid progress, but at a pace where we could keep conversation. I told Karl that my plan was to hold off and then pull the trigger once we got to Parakai hut, and I'm not sure he believed me. I can talk a lot of shit, especially when a little tired, but the way I was feeling at this point, I actually realised I might be able to follow through with it.

After refilling water at the Parakai stream and passing the marshall at the hut, Karl and I shuffled our way up the second to last climb. This one is a real doozy, about 550m of very steep trail, lots of it you need to clamber with your hands pulling you up. Now it was time to make my move.

I said to Karl 'I'm gonna give it a shove, you should stay with me', he just said 'Go for it', and so I turned the effort to 11 and soon he was starting to drop behind me. I put real effort into power hiking hard, but efficiently. If I felt I was able to run up the hill, I rolled into it. I was feeling pretty tired with the speed I was doing, but I'd heard so often that there is no point making a move if you aren't going to commit, so told myself to suck it up and kept up the effort.

About halfway up the hill, I ended up passing both Sam and Angus. They both looked like they'd hit the wall hard, so I offered them as much encouragement as I could and kept on moving with the same purpose.

It was then I realised something that took a little while to sink in, as it was a situation incredibly new to me…..

I was leading!

And not only that, I was aware I was well inside the time splits I was wanting to hit for my goal time, but without feeling like I was about to die. Everything was coming up Milhouse and it was at this point I'm sure I got a massive shot of adrenaline, because I was able to really start attacking the hill closer to the top and it felt like I flew up the last 100m of that climb.

_{^{Photo of me heading down to the finish by Chris Crowley - Own work, CC BY-SA}}

A poignant moment I remember was just short of cresting the top, at 2 hours 50 mins which was well ahead of my time goal of 3 hours. I saw some windfall that had fallen on the track and recalled that same tree from last year when I could barely lift my leg over it and had tripped, sending cramp all through both legs which lead me to sitting down for about 5 minutes. This time no such namby pamby business occurred. I jumped over it in a moment of catharsis that had me whooping out over the valley I was about to descend into, having broken the back of the route.

I bombed down the hill carefully but with a focused strength, and soon hit the Washpool stream. As I climbed out of the river to the clearing where some fine marshals, including good running mate Alex, were waiting, an unfortunate sense of history repeating itself set in, as I felt the signs of cramp setting into my inner thighs. I took a moment to have a quick chat while I tipped tailwind powder into my freshly filled bottles, which was good to help me just take a few breaths to tell myself that, yes the climb out was going to be painful, but I could definitely do it.

I'd caught up to Martin, the runner who'd picked me up earlier, at the river and we started the climb together. After a bit of whinging and moaning to him, I was able to slowly adapt my body to the cramping, and was soon pushing through it to moving up the hill at a steady pace.

I felt I was going quite a lot slower up this hill, and I was feeling a little rough, well - quite rough, but I just had to keep telling myself that the guys behind me were more than likely feeling just as rough, so long as I kept moving I'd be able to keep my position and hit the time goal of 5 hours.

Soon enough, thank all that is good and great with the world, the last major climb was behind me, and I passed the last marshall, Ash, who told me 7ks to the end. I could see the ocean from where I was, and it looked a long way away! But to quote Ronnie Coleman, ain't nothing to it but to do it, so I just sucked down my last gel (double caffeine!) and got into as solid a rhythm as I could.

I was soon knocking off landmarks I knew faster and faster, and I was finally into 'gorse alley', a section where the tramping track gives way to a 4WD track which, at least last year, is filled with gorse. With great relief this year it had been cleared, and as it was all a super runnable fast downhill from here, I told my quads I was sorry and set about hitting the downhill as fast as possible.

When I got to the stairs, I felt incredibly good, and I glanced at my watch, it looked like I was going to easily beat 5 hours, and if I tried hard enough, I may even beat 4 hours 45! So I started taking the stairs two at a time, and sometimes three, as I was feeling finish line fever and was trying to use gravity as much as possible to get me there fast. I was feeling pain, but it was a very good kind of pain.

I got to the river bed, and ran up the track to the finish line where the smell of sausages gave that extra boost to the final flourish across the line. I was exhausted, but more importantly, elated.

I shook Martini's hand and assessed the situation.

While I had won the wave, Danny and Chris had smashed the record time earlier that day, so I had come third, in a time of 4 hours 47, and the day had exceeded all expectations.

Absolutely stoked.

After the race, I soaked it all in. In someways the race itself is just a means to an end, where the end is the moments after the race where you're feeling shagged, but stoked with your effort, no matter the result, and get to partake in the after race revelry.

It was a beautiful day with a beer in one hand, and a sausage in the other, I congratulated all those earlier starters that had finished, and as they came in, those that finished afterwards. Great yarns with great friends, and shared war stories with other competitors after a cracking day out in the hills, what could be better?

_{^{Photo of Tim Sutton and Myself at the finish - taken by Chris Martin - Own work, CC BY-SA}}

Thanks to Chris Martin and the rest of the amazing organisers, volunteers and marshals for putting on an amazing race. Thanks also to my coach Chan for the great advice leading up to this race.

Race Stats - Aorangi Undulator 2016

Length: 33km
Climb: 2250m
Time: 4:47:00
Place: 3rd Overall, 1st in wave

Strava Course Tracking

Wuu. Wooooo. Weoowwww. It's almost upon us, the inaugural Wellington Urban Ultra...2000, in 2016.

I wrote a post about why I decided to enter this run here, but this post is going to be more to the point about what to expect on the 60km course, as it's probably the one ultra marathon course I'd consider myself to be an expert at, having run all these trails at least once, with some hundreds of times.

First off, lets dissect the name, WUU-2K. As mentioned above, the first three letters form the acronym for Wellington Urban Ultra, which tells us that we're going to be running an ultra marathon, in Wellington, around it's urban environment. That last part is a bit of a half-truth however, because while you do snake around and between a bunch of Wellingtons suburbs, finishing right above the city, you are hardly touching pavement throughout the race and you aren't running through city streets. This certainly ain't no round the bays.

The 2K part of the name is meant to represent the two thousand meters of elevation you'll have to overcome to complete the course, which is pretty chunky all things considered. BUT, the organisers themselves have stated that for the 60km course, this is well under the actual elevation, and will be closer to 3K than 2K (more on that later), but hey, I'm not complaining, I entered this race because of the hills, not the name, so that works out just dandy.

Right, enough etymology, lets get down and dirty and talk about the course itself.

The Course

_{^{Download the GPX - Right Click - Save File As}}

In short, the course starts at Khandallah Park and climbs up to the Skyline track via Mt Kaukau, which you follow until Makara Peak, where you can enjoy a jaunt through the MTB park, followed by a climb up to Wrights Hill. You then pop around the Zealandia sanctuary to the wind turbine, and double back to the south coast, sidling just under Hawkins Hill in the process. After following the coast to Owhiro Bay, you head north, and then up and down the tip track. The home stretch sees you heading up and over Tawatawa reserve and then up to Mt Albert, where you zig-zag your way north until the finish at the lookout platform on top of Mt Victoria.

Whew, just describing all those epic tracks in one course has me all giddy. An event like this needs the course preview it deserves, so we need to go deeper. As the course is broken up by fairly regular aid stations at the end of fairly distinct sections, approximately every 10km, it makes sense to break down the preview into similar sections.

Start to Makara Road.

_{^{Skyline By Andrew Thompson - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

The start is going to be an interesting one. Right away you're faced with a fairly steep 200+ meter climb on steps and single track within some native bush. Some keen people will blast up here, most will be more circumspect. Personally I think the race starts at the Mt Kaukau lookout at the top of the climb, so I'll be taking my time to settle in, soak it up and enjoy the fact I'm racing an ultra marathon on my home turf.

After reaching the top and getting hopefully the first glimpse of the finish line across the harbour, you drop down onto the Skyline track, a mixture of old farm track and some MTB single track, that will be covered by it's fair share of both cow poo and the cows that do the poo. Dodging both of these is a good idea. The Skyline track is all very runnable and is an enjoyable traverse across undulating farmland. If it's a screaming northerly or bitter southerly, you'll be in luck, because you'll certainly be getting your moneys worth as you're quite exposed along the whole track. Regardless of the weather, hopefully the clouds are high enough so everyone gets to enjoy the magnificent views of Wellington harbour to the east, and the wind farms and Marlborough Sounds to the west.

Once you start running on single track among some tree's again, you know you're very close to the first aid station at Makara Road.

Makara Road to Makara Carpark

_{^{Makara MTB Peak By Yagerkarl - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

Another decent climb to get us going! This time it's more tame than the Kaukau one, but by now you'll be starting to realise that the 2K part of the event name is all a clever ruse. During this ascent you'll cruise up a bunch of switchbacks on Varley's track, finally reaching the directional sign on top of the peak via the 4WD access road.

Any 42km course runners with you at this point will display their smug smiles, as they get to split off east and enjoy a 100% downhill until the next aid station, whereas the 60km masochists need to continue south and do a loop within the MTB park. Tracks like Leaping Lizard and Possum Bait Line await, and they're well maintained single track within a mixture of scrub and native bush. You'll find yourself undulating down and up a series of fairly steep grades throughout this section, so keeping your effort steady will be important as you're still only 1/3 of the way through the event.

After the final climb out from Nikau Valley via Missing Link, you descend to the car park aid station via Lazy Fern, a low gradient downhill with a bunch of switch backs and banked corners. I'd recommend doing the airplane manoeuvre whilst undergoing cornering for maximum enjoyment of this part of the course, which should get you into a good mood to meet the lovely aid station volunteers as well as re-joining the race with the 42km course runners.

Makara Carpark to Brooklyn Wind Turbine

_{^{Wind Turbine By Andy McDowall- Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

With another aid station down, another significant rise in elevation faces you, this time in the form of Wrights Hill. The track to get you up there is aptly named Salvation, as it will deliver you from the evil that is a small road running section to some very runnable uphill single track. After the climb is done, you cross over a road and sidle along the left of the Wrights Hill lookout (missing out on a great view unfortunately), until you reach the fenceline of the Zealandia ecosancturary, which you will follow anti-clockwise.

This track is essentially a 4WD access road, and undulates with a couple of small pinches while you head towards the Brooklyn Wind Turbine for the next aid station. As you round the sanctuary, you should be treated to a cacophony of native bird song, which should get you in a good mood to enjoy a fantastic view of the city from the turbine.

This section will be a bit of 'make or break' for a lot of people. The slopes here are generally quite fast and easy to run, but you do actually make some fairly large elevation gains. The danger here is getting lulled into a false sense of security trying to gain some time and taking the uphills too fast and knackering yourself before reaching the halfway point. If your strategy is 'completion' rather than 'competing', then taking things down a notch is a good idea here.

Brooklyn Wind Turbine to Owhiro Bay

_{^{Looking to Owhiro Bay By Andrew Thompson - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

From the halfway point, you will be sent south, and for once, not up a daunting hill. You drop onto some single track called Car Parts Extension which joins up to Barking Emu as you meander slowly uphill towards the golf ball looking radar dome on top of Hawkins Hill. This is an excellent track to give your legs a wee bit of a rest and should give you glorious views of Wellingtons southern suburbs and the south coast.

After reaching the top end of the Tip Track, once again you can wave goodbye to the 42km runners, as they break down to the right while you'll continue on south towards the coast. This is the first of two significant descents on the 60km course, where you follow the ridge down a mostly wide track until Red Rocks. This track has some technicality to it, which will make it fun for those wanting to bomb the hill, just be prepared for a solid examination of your quads.

Once you reach the coastal track, you head east on the only section of the course that could actually be considered 'flat'. If you have the energy and are willing to give it a shove, you can can cover a lot of ground quickly here, provided no seals are blocking the path. Lumbering escarpments will tower over you as you make your way in and out of bays until you reach the Te Kopahou Visitor Centre just before Owhiro Bay, where you'll find the next aid station at around the 42km mark.

Owhiro Bay to Adelaide Road (via Tip Track)

_{^{From Hawkins Hill towards Owhiro Bay Plant Runner - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

Ahhh, this section. Right, so if you thought things were pretty tame so far, then no doubt the out and back on Tip Track will absolutely change your mind.

After pounding the pavement again for a few k, you'll turn left onto an old dirt road, and head up. And up, and up, and continue up - on what is essentially Wellington's highest runnable climb that is close to the city. There is a small dip/flat section just over halfway up, but other than that, it's relentless. To make matters worse, those struggling to get themselves up the hill, have to put up with the joy of seeing the 42km entrants, or the 60km entrants who were ahead of them, run down past them most likely wearing grins that say 'glad I'm not you right now'.

So you get to the top, to a point you've actually run past before probably an hour ago, and if that doesn't make your existence seem pointless enough, you are then sent back down the same way you came up. Time to reacquaint yourself with those quads again. In fact, if you look at the elevation profile of this section, it's almost as if you can see it giving you the old middle finger.
_{^{Say hello to your mother for me.}}

Not to be completely negative, it's worth pointing out that now you'll be well past the 2/3 mark of the course, and you'll have got the last major climb out of the way, so all the hurt and despair will be evened out somewhat by those tidbits. As you reach the road again, you do have to climb another hill through Tawatawa Reserve, but you can be assured in the fact that all climbs from now on are going to be tiny compared to that last one.

After you reach the top of Tawatawa, you descend some stairs, skip past a water tank, cut back down a track until you pop out onto a public golf course where I'm sure at least one persons perfect round will be ruined by some sweaty, groaning ultra marathon runner putting them off their putt. Just down from the golf course is the Adelaide Road crossing, where the final aid station is positioned.

Adelaide Road to Mt Victoria Lookout

_{^{Stump on a winding forest walkway on Mt Victoria, Wellington. By Andre Goble - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

The home stretch.

This section is the most 'urban' of the course, but for the most part your encounters with roads will be crossings, as the event makes good use of Wellingtons superb Southern Walkway.

From the busy Adelaide Road (take care crossing) theres a decent pinch climbing up to Mt Albert. This is basically the second to last climb, with less than 5 miles to go, so if you have it in you, push it hard. Following some tracks down across Melrose field, you'll go around the edge of Wellington zoo, where at this point your incoherent grunts will be joined by those of the baboons, who will see you charging and be in no doubt that you're the better primate.

Heading north through a zig-zag of tracks and roads, you'll reach the boundary of HRH Mt Victoria, husband of Albert, who you just recently conquered. As you advance on a mixture of single track and wider general purpose walking tracks, you will be passing plenty of recreational users of the city's town belt, who will have no idea of the magnitude of the day you've had so far. Make sure you tell them how awesome you are.

Finally, you'll be just below the Mt Victoria summit, passing the catering truck that, combined with the last 20 meters of steep hill to climb, may tempt you to just give up there and then, but if you endure, as you have done all day, you'll be on top of Mt Victoria, and will have completed the first ever Wellington Urban Ultra Marathon - Whew! Or should I say, WHEWUU!

Look forward to seeing you all out there on the day.

Vital Statistics _{^{Download the GPX - Right Click - Save File As}}

• Length: 60km - though my GPX says it's just shy of 63km.
• Climb: Event states it as 2.5k climb, however by my reckoning, using the gpx above and the gpx report from this site, it will be just on or below 4k of climb.
  It turns out it it was 3K.
• Highest Elevation: Mt KauKau, which at the platform (not the summit) is 443 meters. You reach just below this elevation 4 more times.
• Track Conditions: Approx 40% single track, 50% 4WD type dirt track, 10% footpath. A decent proportion is exposed to the elements, particularly in a southerly. On almost all of the course aside from about 6k, you'll be either descending or ascending.

For another course preview, check Run Wellington

_{^{Header Image: Wellington from Mt Kaukau - By Andrew Thompson - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0}}

It's so hard to fathom because I can recall 6 months ago, I was certain that I wasn't going to attempt an ultra this year. My goal was to knuckle down on some consistent training, work on my speed and aim to win some trail races of around 15 to 20 kms in length.

I'd told myself, and many others who'd listen to my boring running plans, that I wasn't going to do an ultra until I was older and thus, slower. But that all changed when I ran the relay at the Tarawera Ultramarathon in February this year. The event was incredibly inspiring and you were surrounded by so many people who were setting out on challenges that no doubt they too said they'd never undertake, that it was very hard to ignore the pull of running a race of that magnitude. If you're a runner, and you're in the middle of that atmosphere and you don't feel like wanting to sign up for an ultra right away, there is something wrong with you.

And so, the seed was planted, and it didn't take much fertiliser to help it grow into a full 60km sized tree that was my WUU-2K entry. Now this was a race that I'd considered when it was first announced, but I quickly dismissed it. Like a person who's restricting their options by saying something inane like "I don't date DJs", my equally silly mantra was "I don't do ultras...yet", and so I ignored it and searched out other races at the time.

But in late February, with the buzz from Tarawera still pulsing through me, I realised that if I was to ever do an ultra, the WUU-2K had to be my first one. The race encompasses so much of what I am about when it comes to running, and I was so motivated by that fact that I threw all plans of 'being an old man running long distances' aside, and signed up so a slightly younger version of myself could get into the mix and enjoy what looks to be a cracker of a race.

The WUU-2K is the inaugural Wellington Urban Ultra, 60km over trails that meander across Wellington's hills starting from Khandallah Park, circumnavigating the city counter clockwise to finish on top of Mt Victoria. And there are a bunch of reasons why this is the perfect race to debut in an ultra distance.

The course

The course is 98% trail running, all of that on some fairly decent hills. And as you may have guessed, I love to run them hills. And if I was being specific about what hills I love to run more than any, it's the local ones. The hills and trails on this course are those I hold very dear to my heart and which have contributed greatly to who I am as a runner. Having a chance to embark upon such a momentous journey for the first time on the same very hills and trails, is something I'm incredibly excited about.

Familiarity

From what I know about ultra marathons, having a strong mental game is a major part of success. Being so familiar with the course and conditions is going to be a massive boost to that me in that regard.
If I know the weather forecast, I can almost guarantee what the conditions are going to be like across the entire course. I know where I'll be exposed, where I'll be sheltered, how careful I have to be on certain downhills and when I can put the foot down. I also don't need to stress about getting lost and I'll know how long I have to toil and endure on certain bits of the course. All of these things will add up to making quite a tough day that much easier.

Support

I'd always hoped my family would help crew if I ever did an ultra, and this is the perfect opportunity to get them involved in this way. They can sleep in their own beds (so can I for added bonus) as the start is literally 5 minutes down the road. All the aid stations are in areas they know, which makes planning much more simple, and they'll be keeping me in top shape and motivated as I tick off the miles. On top of that, I'm pretty sure I can convince at least a few friends to be out on the course cheering me on, and no doubt some will want to be at the finish ready to laugh at how wrecked I'm going to be.

The organisers

It always helps you to enter a race when you know the people behind it are doing it for the right reasons. Gareth and Stu, the organisers, are part of WoRM, a running meetup here in Wellington. It was through the regular trail runs those guys did together in which the idea was for the WUU-2K was thought up and ultimately realised. I've met Gareth and Stu a number of times, and you cannot help but notice how passionate about trail running in Wellington they are, as are all the WoRM crew, plenty of which will be out in force volunteering to help the race be amazing.

The length

Hey, it's only 60 kilometers, it's not like its a 100 miler or anything. Walk in the park....

There is so much more to why I'm doing this race, and these are just some of the reasons why I'm toeing the line in a couple of weeks.

I cannot wait to run with some like minded people and complete the challenge that I've set for myself and worked hard to achieve over the past 4 months, it's going to be a blast.

PS - If you've read this far, another reason I'm running in this event is to help raise money for the Malaghan Institute. It's is an incredible research institute that is focused on finding cures for diseases such as cancer, asthma and allergies. If you'd like to help myself or any of the runners who are raising money for this cause, head to my donor page, or the event's info page here.

Header photo of myself running along skyline at dusk by Ricoh Riott Photography

I love it when a plan comes together!

I recall back to the middle of last year, when training was going quite well, but the weather was poor and it was darker more than it was light. I was hovering over my computer with the Tarawera Ultra Marathon entry form open in front of me. With the warmer months so far away, I just kept thinking about training for and running races in the summer, and the TUM was a race I'd heard so much about, that I decided I had to get my act together to enter.

I was only slightly contemplating entering an ultra distance, but knew that in reality it was a no-go with other races I was doing around that time and type of training I was due to do, so I started to study the details on the relay.

I messaged an ex-Wellington based running buddy of mine, Alastair who currently lives in Auckland, seeing if he'd be interested in doing the relay with me as a duo. At that point, as any runner would, he also contemplated doing an ultra distance, running through the mental checklist of pros and cons of doing something as mental as a 100km race.

Thankfully I was quite convincing that it was a bad idea, and sanity prevailed, so Al decided to join me on the relay - Team Blazin' Pace was entered and the plan was in motion.

Fast forward through months of training and injuries for both me and Alastair, and we were both up at 4am on Waitangi Day to prepare for the race start in a couple of hours. We'd planned to do the 85km distance, which is split into 4 possible legs for the relays, as a series of alternative legs. I was to run Leg 1 to Lake Tikitapu, Al was then to run Leg 2 to Okataina, I would then take over and run Leg 3 to Tarawera Falls, with Al finishing off the run in Leg 4 to Kawerau. Over all, I would run about 40km with 2000m climb, where Al would cover 45km with 700m climb.

For some reason, in all the time leading up to that Saturday morning, the event seemed like a simple task. Yet while I was waiting for my coffee and breakfast to do it's thing, it dawned on me that I was about to run the longest distance I had ever run, not to mention I was going to attempt this only a week after putting a serious effort into a 3 hour race. In a wondrous moment of serendipity, these thoughts freaked me out enough to help the coffee do it's magic, which helped me forget my doubt with focus taking its place.

At the start line, the focus intensified. I surrounded by an amazingly lit redwood and ponga forest, and I could sense an amazing vibe in the air emanating from the throng of competitors around me. Toeing the line were runners that covered the full spectrum, from less than likely weekend warriors, all the way to international record holders and professionals. Common to all, however, was the excitement of the day ahead - and boy did it get me fizzing.
After a rousing haka, the countdown began, and we were off!

I was told by people who had done the relay previously, that I needed to make sure I wasn't stuck in among the crowds at the start, particularly as a relay runner where I'd be wanting to move a lot faster than most. I was very happy with where I slotted myself in, probably about 20 runners back from the leader, where the pace was good and the tracks were still quite intact. The weather leading up to the race and on the day had been pretty wet, and there was a lot of talk about how much harder it would be underfoot. I think that being in the front of the pack really helped mitigate those issues, as while some areas of single track leading down to Blue Lake were a bit sloppy, all in all it was a very sturdy course.

This first 16.5km leg started off in the Redwoods Whakarewarewa Forest, and was for the most part a gentle climb through dark single track. Soon we were past the water tower and into some open and flat forest roads, and I noticed that my legs felt very, very tired. I had expected this to happen, being a hangover from the racing last weekend, so I just had to try ignore it and power through. With the first leg being relatively short, and with the pace of the runners around me so hot, I kept my head down and sure enough I was rounding the gorgeous Blue Lake to hand off to Alastair in no time.

As soon as Al had set off, I had to get my bearings. I was quite shagged, and I knew that I had to hustle to get to Okataina before Alastair did. So I did a small warm down, stretched, fueled up as best I could, got changed out of my wet gear, put on some Jamie XX (very loud) and high-tailed it out of there.

Unfortunately due to the size of the carpark and access road, only shuttles were allowed to the Okataina change over area from Rotoiti, so this didn't help my small amount of recovery time as I got quite stressed out when I turned up and saw a shuttle just leaving. The volunteer told me it would be at least 30 minutes until the next one left - so add to that the 25 minute travel time, and I was likely to be cutting it way too close to meet Al running in. Not ideal.

Thankfully the next shuttle was actually only a few minutes away, and it filled up very fast and was off quick smart towards Okataina. During the shuttle ride, the effects of fatigue started to kick in. I was quite sleepy, and I was also starting to worry that I'd not rehydrated and refueled enough. I knew this next leg was going to hurt.

Once in Okataina, I got to see the 100km race leaders come through the aid station, and not long after, was the other half to Team Blazin' Pace - who had done a cracking run and picked up a few places over his leg. Al came flying in, and once I had the timing chip swapped to my leg, I had to forget my worries once again, and shift my focus to the track in front of me.

I felt solid for a around 8km, really enjoying myself while I kept on a decent pace and picked up a few of the 100km/60km runners that had slowed a little. The track was gorgeous, travelling alongside lake Okataina in some amazing native forest, towards a slight saddle that took me down to Humphrey's Bay, where the first of 2 aid stations on this leg was to be found. When I got to Humphrey's though, I was shot. Perhaps it was just seeing an aid station, or I was running on empty, but after taking in water and fuel, I was dreading setting off for the last 15 odd kilometers.

About 2km after Humphrey's, while the course was on a climb, I let the demons get to me, and I told myself I'd allow myself to walk until 3km, but after that, then I'd have to run. While I'm not proud of that moment, it actually worked. I felt the a massive second wind sooner than I thought, and I was able to plod along at a decent pace until the Outlet, the last aid station for me.

Now, aid stations were a new thing to me this race. I've been in races before when I've been tired and come across marshals and decided to have a small rest and a chat to get some motivation to keep going, but aid stations stocked with amazing food and drink choices, not to mention a dozen or so very helpful people, they become like black holes, sucking you in, tempting you to rest. I sat down, drunk Coke for the first time in a race, and took on some gels. Thankfully, a very motivating volunteer had a chat to me, and sent me on my way, all gee'd up and ready to finish the last 5kms. He told me the next bit of trail is some of the best of the course, so I was excited to see that, as well as get this day over with.

And then, it happened. The dreaded C-Word. Much like the Aorangi Undulator 3 months earlier, as soon as I felt a little bit of cramp, it wasn't long until both my legs, top to bottom, seized up completely. I knew there was nothing much I could do, and I was suddenly in a forced walk/jog pattern which meant I got passed by a decent amount of people in the last section. One benefit to moving this slow on this part of the trail however, was that I got to see the breathtaking Tarawera Falls more than I would have if I was moving freely. They are quite something and helped take my mind off the pain somewhat.

After covering about 5km in about 35 minutes with running that would not be out of place at the Ministry of Silly Walks, I arrived at the falls carpark, to an awaiting Alastair. I told him sorry about the wait, wished him good luck, said I'd see him at the finish and promptly went back to the table of food and filled myself with Nutella and peanut butter hot cross buns followed by a dip in the Tarawera River. Boy was I relieved to be done!

After crashing out in the pine needles for a while, I drove to Kawerau and strolled out a few hundred metres in front of the the finish to wait for Al. While I was waiting, I saw the Jonas Buud from Sweden come in to the finish to win the 100km (was actually 102km) in a scorching 8:00:53. Not too far after that, David Byrne, an Australian take 2nd place in 8:22:39. As I cheered David on, he asked how far it was to the finish, this amused me considering it was just around the corner and I thought to myself how many times he'd asked himself that over the last 8 hours.

Only minutes later, I spied Al coming along the track. I was pumped! I joined him as we jogged towards the end. Oddly enough, in the same breath that he was complaining about a blown out knee, he asked if we wanted to race into the finish! We had a ton of fun jockeying for position into the finish, but my 2 hours of rest and intact knees meant I had a huge advantage on him, so I held back a little to make sure we crossed the line together.

Seconds after crossing the line, we were embraced by Paul Charteris, the fantastic race organiser, who promptly told us we were the first 2-person team to arrive, in 8:28:00, how about that! We got to say a few words on the PA to the supporters around the place and then sit down and share our war stories over a beer that has never tasted so good. I also got to see third place Ryan Sandes from South Africa come in to the finish in 8:30:40, and once he was recovered enough, I had a wee chat with him. Ryan is one of my ultra running heroes, so I was stoked to be able to talk a little about some NZ trails with him.

And with that the Tarawera was done. It was a race that, going into it, had a lot of unknowns, but I had spent a lot of time planning it out, so I knew that it would come off okay with some effort. And ultimately it did, first 2-person team is nothing to be sneezed and, and I also have a good gauge on what is required when I enter an ultra distance solo next year. Whether its the 60k, 85k or 100k, is yet to be decided, but there is no way I'm missing another hit out on those trails.

Race Stats - Tarawera Ultra Marathon

2 PERSON RELAY 6TH FEBRUARY 2016

Length: 39.8km - 16.5km Leg 1 and 23.3km Leg 3
Climb: 2000m - 800m Leg 1 and 1200m Leg 3
Time: 3:10:08 - 01:27:29 Leg 1 and 02:42:39 Leg 3
Place: 1st 2 Person Team, 9th Relay team.
Photos: by myself, Alastair and photos4sale

Get out your paint brushes and colour me excited!

One of my favourite mountain races is only two weeks away, and if you haven't heard about it, then let the rest of this blog be the polyfilla to your knowledge gap.

The race in question is, of course, the Jumbo-Holdsworth Trail Race, formally known as the Holdsworth-Jumbo Trail race for so many years. These days however, you can legitimately call it either of those, as you can actually choose the direction of the circuit you'd prefer to run. Further down I'll go into some detail about what considerations you may want to make before choosing the direction that will suit you, should you want to give the race a go. (Spoiler alert: You should definitely enter!)

This event holds a special place in my heart for a few reasons, but the foremost is because it was the first mountain race I ever competed in. Back in 1997, I was a string bean of a seventeen year old, and I was told about the race by some fellow orienteers who were entering. My reaction of learning about the race and its course was that of complete awe and surprise that people decide to run the damn thing at all, let alone be able to complete it in less than three hours! This reaction is similar to what I experience still when I describe it to most people, particularly if they have walked the circuit before - which is completely understandable when the circuit is traditionally undertaken over at least two days, with DOC estimating at least 12 hours of walking.

I think it's this concept of running the seemingly impossible that is at the heart of why people decide to take up mountain running, and it was certainly the driving force that lead me to sign up for that first race - even if it meant having to get a special clearance from the organisers due to the fact I was under eighteen (not sure that's still the case). Since then I've been hooked on the sport, and this race in particular.

Another thing I love about this race is the grassroots vibe of the event. It's competitor numbers sit around 250 or under (including the shorter distance Hooper Loop), and this seems to suit the organisers just fine. It really does feel like they're putting the race on if only to provide a quality, safe and enjoyable event for anyone who wants a challenge. Combine that with the relaxed atmosphere of the DOC Holdsworth campground, where after the race you get to put your feet up in beautiful surroundings while digging into a superb feed put on by volunteers, you cannot help but feel part of something special.

So enough sentiment, if you were to enter this race, and you should, what are you to expect?

Here is the basic info for both directions;

• Length: Approx 23-24km
• Climb: 1650 meters
• Highest Elevation: Mt Holdsworth, which is 1470 meters - though in the race you skirt just below the trig
• Track Conditions: 60% very well formed walking tracks, 10% steep rooty ridge track, 30% exposed route/track cut on the ridges above the tree line

Course Description:

I'm going to describe the course in the counterclockwise, Jumbo first direction, but will add extra notes for those who decide to run the other way.

This course starts off with a very fast 7.5km to Atiwhakatu Hut. This section has only 300m of climb over that period, and the track is about as much of a highway as you can get in the Tararuas. There are some stair climbs in and out of creek valleys, but all creeks and streams are crossed using either small footbridges or more substantial swing bridges.

Clockwise: After the Raingauge descent, your legs are likely quite hammered, but if you have the strength and energy, the run back down the valley can be done very quickly and easily, with only a few minor climbs there to make you feel the extra pinch. Remember, the finish isn't far away!

Once you hit Atiwhakatu Hut, where there will be a marshal and some water and lollies for you, turn left and you're faced with Raingauge Spur track - 732m of climb over 2.2km! This track will start to spread the pack out very quickly, as it's incredibly steep, rocky, rooty and constant. Upon overcoming this brute, you'll reach the treeline and Jumbo Hut, once again greeted by some marshals and water/lollies, should you want those.

Clockwise: Like the uphill direction, this can make a large difference in your time. If you have no fear and a lot of downhill skill, you can get down the Raingauge in very little time. Be prepared to use your hands to grab onto some trees and keep your concentration up - the valley floor gets closer with every step.

The next 6km takes across the exposed peaks of Jumbo and Holdsworth to Powell Hut. This section starts off climbing up to Jumbo, where some of the track can be a bit narrow and sketchy, but it's all quite harmless - and fun! Once at Jumbo, you turn left and head for Holdsworth along the ridge. This ridge is generally quite wide, and the track is for the most part easy to pick, though some sections tend to let you pick your own path, so keeping a heads up as to the best line is a good idea. Tussock covering the track tends to be a bit of a pain, as will negotiating competitors coming the other direction, but there aren't too many steep climbs along here until just before Holdsworth, it's all quite runnable. Conditions up here could be anything, but if it is clear, make sure to look around you at the view - Wairarapa on the left, and the main range of the Tararuas on the right - quite magnificent.
Once reaching Holdsworth just below the trig, you turn left again and head down the ridge to Powell Hut - and you guessed it, Marshals, lollies and some water.

Clockwise: Climbing up to Holdsworth after the push to Powell can be done quite quickly, and the section to Jumbo is slightly easier than the other direction due to less climb. Otherwise, it's very similar.

Downhill from Powell really is two distinct sections. First you start heading down the steep ridge for about 1.7kms while you drop 450m. This ridge has some rocky/rooty parts, mixed with some incredibly large, but well built, steps (some with hand rails), as well as some well formed hard packed track as you reach the bottom of the steep section.

Clockwise: If you are quite fit and have good hill running strength, you can run this part. As opposed to running up Raingauge, where you're likely to powerhike/climb a lot of it, the quality of the track and the steps means you can keep your stride up. If you're hoping to make the Sub 1 Hour club to Powell, you'll want to be at Mountain House at around 37 minutes at the latest.

After that you make a small climb up to Pig Flat, run along the boardwalks, and hit the final descent down the Gentle Annie Track.
This track is very well formed and can be run incredibly fast if you have the energy. It's approx 6k from here to the finish, and there is no perceivable uphill, so you have gravity on your side all the way until the last flat push to the finish.

Clockwise: Just like the ascent from Mountain House to Powell, the climb here is very runnable, and you should enjoy the ability to stride out while you can, particularly while you're fresh.

What direction should you run?

Running counterclockwise (Jumbo first) is the more popular direction, this is for two reasons. One being that for the 10 years previous to 2014, it was the only direction to run it. So it's understandable people will continue to run the course they are familiar with. Secondly, it's thought to be 'the faster' course. This is possibly true, but the runners who have both set amazing records, James Coubrough (2:16:08 - counterclockwise) and Carsten Jorgenson (2:20:46 - clockwise) have never run the race in the other direction to compare - and Carstens record was set in atrocious conditions across the tops. The fact is, the majority of trail runners aren't that good at smashing sustained technical downhills, and struggling down Raingauge for 700+ meters is not much fun and will lose you a lot of time, so it's just natural to want to do the course you'll enjoy more.

Personally, coming from an orienteering background, I love technical running - downhills in particular - so I'm a fan of the clockwise, Holdsworth first direction.
I also like to have the chance to get to Powell in sub 1 hour, and join the elite group of people who have done that in the past, and for those reasons I will be running clockwise again this year.

I could go on and on about this race, but I'll leave it at that for now. Good luck with your training and hope to see you on the starting line in two weeks' time!

If you haven't done so yet, you can enter here

Rockstar or Athlete?

That was the question I was asking myself on the start line of the 2015 edition of the Goat Tongariro, a race which the organisers love to say is "17km worth of hope, and 4km worth of truth."

The reason for asking this, was due to finding that gem of a slogan on a t-shirt at the Kilbirne Salvation Army shop previous to our departure north. It was decided by our travel party that first of us across the line would get to wear said shirt at the 'ugly shirt/sweater' afterparty the event was holding after the race. With an addition to simple bragging rights, now things were getting serious!

The day of the race dawned with the mountain completely covered in cloud when viewed from the chalet window, and the forecast was for some rain and strong winds. I was positive that they were going to make us run in warm gear, so I made my first mistake of the day by putting on a short sleeve polyprop top, and leaving my lightweight, quick-dry shirts in my room.

The reality of the what the weather was going to be like however was quite different, as the bus that ferried us to the start line broke through the cloud halfway up the bruce road, it turned out that the course was going to be soaked in sun and have very light winds. Truth be told, I was much happier to be running in slightly warmer gear in better weather than slightly warmer gear in shite weather, so I just dealt with the situation.

For the next hour and a bit after getting dropped off, I was in the middle of the golden pre-race period. Call me strange, but I love this time before a race, where you do everything including; a lot of people watching, taking a few selfies, tending to your nervous excretions in the portaloos, finding people you may or may not know and chatting to them about the impending pain, and a lot of contemplation about how you got here and what is to come in the next few hours.

And then it was time for the first wave, my wave, to go. As I stood in the holding pen with the other wave 1 competitors, including good friend of mine, Fraser Mills, I know I was beaming. I was feeling so amped about starting a race that had been in my thoughts so damn much recently, I just wanted to get out there and do it.

The horn went, and we were off! Over the timing mat, through the gate and down the Bruce Road.
I would consider the pace I was running 'tempered', purposely held back to just on or under 4min/k because I knew I had a tendency to get a bit excited early on. Of course there were a bunch that put on a big stride and by the time we hit the trail, I was about 40 runners back, with the leaders a good 500m in front.

The next 3kms, as planned, was were where I made a few of moves overtaking people who suddenly slowed up on the technical terrain. Leading into the first climb, I was feeling pretty good, but also could feel the heart rate getting up there as the gradient pinched a little.

As I reached the top of the climb, I looked to my right and noticed Fraser alongside me, I was both stoked and surprised! For some reason I'd thought I was well ahead of him after the road section, and that I must have slowed down up the first climb enough for him to catch me, but after the race Fraser explained he was sitting on my heels the whole time up until then.

This was the second mistake I'd make today, as due to my assumption I was slowing up, I then decided to take the downhill on the switchbacks more conservatively than I possibly would have otherwise. I sat in behind Fraser and picked up some people who weren't so adept on the downhill (one competitor straight out missing a corner!) and once at the bottom, decided to try push harder again.

For the next 6 or 7 kms, I concentrated as much on efficiency as possible. This meant a lot of power hiking up the steep climbs, but always making sure to break into a run where the gradient suited it or if I was about to reach the apex of the climb. I made sure to look ahead and pick the best line on the trails, as you could easily find yourself hitting a clay wall you'd need to pull yourself up with more effort than if you'd gone the simpler way you could run up. All through this time, I wasn't picking up any runners, but I was starting to get further ahead of the group that I was with, which included Fraser.

At about 11km, after the last major climb in the middle section, I noticed a runner I had slowly caught was looking around at the environment, so I decided to do the same. Holy moly, the view was amazing. I cannot fully describe how overawed I felt looking to my left up at the snow capped brute of Ruapehu, and to my right seeing the massive expanse of the central plateau, but suffice to say, it's a moment I'll remember fondly for a long time to come. Not only did the view inspire me with awe, but it inspired me to get a wriggle on, so I decided to pass that runner and put in a decent push. This section was slightly downhill on nice soft mud single track, with very little rocks, and I had a blast going full tilt along it.

The next 4kms were downhill, and I put in a lot of effort to make sure I negotiated this as fast as possible, because my assumption that there are always fast runners who tend to hold back on the downhills, due to being too cautious or tired quads. Sure enough, I picked up a couple of runners closer to the bottom of the trickier sections, and I was stoked that my race was all coming together. Just one last brute of a climb and I could have a beer!

Heading up to the waterfall/lava flow climb, you can see quite a lot of the course in front of you, and I spotted 3 runners making their way slowly up the rock face. By the time I reached the top of the hill (300m vert later), I'd passed each of them, and had one more in my sights as we ran to the start of 'Mumma's Mile' together.

Mumma's Mile, is the last 1.6kms of the race, on the Ohakune Mountain Road, and is so called because it will make you cry out for your mother as you try to run it. It's very tricky to run at all, let alone fast at the end of a long technical run, and I unfortunately found myself switching to a power walk on a couple of occasions. This let the runner I'd just caught up to get a slight edge on me, and as we both put on a sprint for the line at the end, I couldn't make up the time on him and he pipped me by 14 seconds.

That was the last thing on my mind however, as I just finished the damn race, and all I was thinking about was how much fun I'd just had. I took an assessment of my time, 2 hours 33 minutes, a full 18 minutes faster than the previous year. Not quite the sub 2 hours 30 I wanted, but close enough to feel accomplished in what I'd just done.

4 minutes later, Fraser jogged into the finished chute, and as we shared a beer together, the discussion quickly turned to the original question - Rockstar or Athlete. And I have to say at that point, I felt like both!

Race Stats - The Goat Tongariro 2015

Length: 20km (stated) - 19.1 (measured)
Climb: 1000+m (stated) - 1197m (measured)
Time: 2:33:27
Place: 27th Overall, 17th Open Men - Results
Photos: by myself and photos4sale

Strava Course Tracking

Hello and Happy New Year to everyone. Unless you're reading this well after I post it of course. If that is the case, sorry to waste your time with unnecessary salutations.

Right, enough of that, and onto the meat and potatoes.

The new year, through social norms and not through any actual evolutionary purpose, always brings us to both moments of reflection on the year that has been, and speculation on the year ahead - this post is the former, lamenting what was in the year that has been. As this blog is quite new, the year in review will be a fairly healthy catch up, so for the TL;DR version, just read the next sentence.

Overall, 2015 was a year that I can say I was quite happy with.

I'd not been long in my new job when the year switched, and throughout the year I found myself very settled there, enjoying it more and more, and it enabled me to learn and enhance myself professionally more than any previous role. Throughout the year, new hires bought amazing new talent alongside myself, and I am very grateful for the team I have working with me into 2016.

My family life didn't have the same bumps along the road that it had in 2014, no major health scares for anyone close to me thankfully. My wife and two daughters continue to be the shining beacons of inspiration and motivation that I often need, and I'm so thankful for each moment I've spent with them this year. I'm stoked that last year the girls wanted to get into some extra curricular junior cross country, and not only did they get involved, they loved it. I know that through running/sport they will earn a sense of purpose and self esteem that will help them immensely as they grow into teenagers.

As for running, which is the reason for this blog after all, I had a year that I'll give a grade of B+.

The negatives were mainly injury related. I started off the year with an annoying twinge in the hip that, thanks to a WHAC 10k race, became a full blown hip flexor injury 1 week before the Jumbo-Holdsworth Trail race I so dearly wanted to run. That was not ideal and I was quite disappointed. Ultimately, it turned out okay, because I got to help out on the course, marshaling for the Hooper Loop and taking photos of all the competitors on a very enjoyable day.

After overcoming the hip flexor problem, I slowly built back up my training and was able to compete in the Rollercoaster Run over in Melbourne, during a trip my wife and I had taken there to watch the Cricket World Cup final. That race went pretty well, but I went in under cooked. I ended up a respectable 21st on a course that was both fast and hilly, but my body felt the effects of a lack of training in the last quarter.

I then took part in one of the Wellington Xterra events at Makara Mountain bike park in April. This was a moment when I realised I wasn't nearly as fit as I thought I was. I struggled early on in the hills, and then again in the last quarter like the Rollercoaster run. I recall feeling a bit bummed about how my body felt during this race and for the next week I was both unmotivated and also, substantially buggered to even undertake a small training run. It was at this point that I'd decided I needed to look a bit more closely about how I was training and started to think more seriously about joining a running club.

Which was exactly what I did in May, when I noticed on twitter mention of the Vosseler Shield, a pretty gnarly 10k cross country that was held in very high esteem within the NZ Athletics scene. I bit the bullet and joined a club a lot of friends had been members of in the past, Wellington Scottish, and I'm now incredibly proud to be part of such a great club. Suddenly my focus switched from trail runs, to cross country, and I cannot think of one thing that has given me more of a kick up the arse to my training. I was schooled fairly hard at Vosseler, and then again at the Dorne Cup XC, but thanks to the atmosphere of being in a club, I didn't just internalise the problems I was having, I reached out and spoke to other members, and got advice and encouragement.

I ended up getting a coaching plan from a fellow club member, and started out on that. Within a few weeks I was doing more speed work than I'd done in my life....unfortunately however, that lead me to injure myself in a not insignificant way - shin splints and/or stress fracture in the shin.

I spent over a month doing no running, concentrating on cycling and aqua jogging to keep my body from atrophying. I went and got orthotics from a podiatrist, and also found a brilliant physio at Habit in Petone, who sorted out a muscle imbalance which combined with the extra load on training had caused the injury.

So that was a bugger, because coming up not far from that were two races I was quite excited about - the Aorangi Undulator and the Tongariro Goat. However, I played with the cards I was dealt, took it easy getting back into training, and focused on what I could get done in the time I had left.

The Aorangi was a bit of a disappointment in terms of performance, but I was quite upbeat about it all, because I knew I didn't have the kilometers behind me that would have allowed me to compete as hard as I wanted to anyway. There were a lot of positives from that race, and thankfully with the Goat only a month away, I knew if I could utilise those and eliminate the negatives, then I'd have a good day on Ruapehu.

And as it turns out I did. I had probably one of the strongest races of my life, and cripes did that feel good. I was just behind my goal time of 2:30 at 2:31 (Full race report to come). I jumped 14 places from the year before in a field that was a LOT stronger, and I ran hard and smart throughout the whole distance.

Since that race, I've felt imbued with a new sense of confidence that I haven't had since I was a young buck with all the energy of a working flux capacitor. My training is going incredibly well, I'm able to crush hills and distance at will and enjoy the hell out of my time doing so.

I'll finish this post by saying thanks to people that have made 2015 what it was. Everyone I've run with, race directors and volunteers, work mates, friends, family and of course my wife and girls.

I'm very excited for what 2016 will bring me, both personally, professionally and through my running exploits.

Stay tuned for a post on my goals for 2016.

Welcome to my blog!

And what better way to get started by previewing one of the most hardcore mountain races held in New Zealand, The Goat Tongariro Adventure Race!

This coming Saturday I'll be running the race for my second time, having run it last year, and crikey am I excited.

"Why are you excited Andrew?", you may ask - Well, let me list just some of the reasons....

1. Running Crew!
   The weekend I will be travelling with two very good mates - one of which I haven't seen for a long time, since he lives down in Wanaka. And the other I will be seeing for the last time for "who knows how long", since he is shipping off to live in Baltimore a couple of days after.
   
   Both of these guys are hardcore mountain men, and I've spent a lot of time running with them over the years, even won some teams races with each of them. So it's going to be great toeing the line with them in such a big race and seeing who can get bragging rights for the weekend.

2. The course!
   The Goat Tongariro is a right prick of a course in an amazing setting, and that makes it right up my alley. I'll keep the plot summary short, but be warned, spoilers ahead.
   
   The start is possibly the worst part - it's about a mile long section down the road from Whakapapa car park until the turn off onto the track. Everyone seems to run like they stole something, forgetting that they have a whole side of the mountain to traverse on quads they just successfully pounded into jelly.
   
   The rocks jut out from the track like an English barmaids teeth. Anyone would think you're running on a volcano! All ye with weak ankles, tread carefully and with a healthy dose of strapping tape.
   
   The streams are often seen as the giver of life and sustenance. However when I waded through them in last years race, I found the complete opposite effect had sapped my legs of any of the energy I'd pretended to have in them.
   
   The sandy mud was something I totally didn't expect last year. I'd been told the course was muddy, but in my mind I was thinking Tararuas type bogs - where the mud is made from light fluffy dirt. But the mud on this course is gritty and heavy, and it gets into all of the crevasses (of your footwear).
   
   The waterfall climb is brutally fun. It's 300m vertical of clambering, hopping, grunting and swearing. You want to save plenty in your tank for this bit, trust me.
   
   And finally, Mumma's Mile has a lot said about it and how difficult it is, but it's really nothing on what you've done in the previous 15 odd kilometers. The fact is, it's at the end, you're stuffed, and you're not quite close enough to smell the sausages yet, so it makes you cry a little. But there are lots of people spectating at this point, so I wouldn't recommend that.

3. I'm prepared!
   Though I've had a lot of time off with injury this year, I'm still feeling as fit and strong as I ever have.
   I think having run the Aorangi Undulator a month ago will pay huge dividends on a course like this. I wasn't quite prepared for the length and amount of climb in that race, and my legs let me know about it fairly early. I'm more honed for the vital statistics of this race that is for certain.

The Goat is my first "A-Race" of the summer, and I'm not going to hold back...

Bring

It

On!

Photo: Me coming into Mummas mile in the 2014 race - Credit: Photos4Sale