Paul Charteris (Western
States 100 pacer extraordinaire 2006 and now Race Organiser
extraordinaire 2009 onwards) asked me a few years ago when I would be
venturing way down south to take part in his new event - the Tarawera Ultra Marathon. In 2013 I
finally made it via business visits in South Korea, China and Hong
Kong for the 5th edition, and what a time to make my first
visit to New Zealand North Island. Unprecedented heat and drought had
left the countryside brown and the livestock hungry.
With 3 days of business
taken care of in Auckland I was free to go out and play. Ex-pat Jan
(pronounced 'Yan') Danilo (also now a Race Organiser himself, the
resurrected Cape Brett Challenge being his baby) joined me as driver
and supporter for the journey south to Rotorua. He had planned to
take part but injuries and niggles put paid to that. Thankfully he
still wanted to come and soak up the atmosphere of the event, spread
the word about his own upcoming event and support me in the process.
What a bonus. Thank you, Jan. It was very much appreciated.
We learned a few days
before the event that it would follow a modified out-and-back route
that would avoid the later forest tracks that were now out of bounds
due to high fire risk. It also meant that the later runnable sections
were to be replaced by retracing our route along the earlier,
unrunnable, gnarly sections through native forest and a few meadows.
I wasn't too concerned; I'm used to unrunnable terrain. It just
takes longer and it's all the better for taking photos.
I really like Tarawera
because it spans 4 days for a really worthwhile, all-encompassing
Ultra experience. It’s not your average ‘turn up, run then
disperse with no time for socialising’ (equals unfulfilment and
anticlimax). This one’s really worthwhile and deserves the full 4
days’ attendance for maximum reward. It was made even more special
by the attendance of world-class ultra athletes from New Zealand,
Australia and America. Names such as Sage Canaday, Timothy Olson,
Vajin Armstrong, Brendan Davies, Mick Donges, Timo Meyer and Ruby
Muir would be thrust further into the limelight. Big race sponsors
like Vibram (FiveFingers), Injinji (Toesocks), UltrAspire, Buff and
Hammer Nutrition enhanced the status and viability of the whole
proceedings.
On Thursday 14th
was the Tarawera 7k ‘Fun-Run’ from the Redwoods Visitor Centre in
Rotorua. It provided a unique chance to mingle and run with world
class athletes. The Paparazzi were out in force to capture our images
in stills and video as we played among the Redwoods. Lyndon Marceau
picked his spot and adjusted his lighting to almost miraculous
effect as evidenced by the following, purchased from his good self
and reproduced with his express permission:
Never judge a book by its cover. Copyright
Lyndon Marceau / marceauphotography.
The hot, intense
evening sunshine and dry conditions among the Redwoods reminded me of
California. I breathed in deeply to sample the scents of the forestry
to see it it reminded me of California and I got stale farts, rotten
eggs and stink bombs. Our flagged running route took us to the
overlook over the steaming, festering volcanic pools of Rotorua and
the source of the stench. After taking in the views and the vapours
we continued along the marked loop back to the Visitor Centre feeling
refreshed and ready for dinner.
After the fun run among the redwoods and some fast(er) runners.
Friday 15th
was seminar and Q & A day with the top runners at the Holiday Inn
Rotorua, followed by registration, packet pick-up, purchases of the
latest kit from the sponsoring companies and more conversation with
friendly people of like mind. We finished the day with another visit
to the Redwoods Visitor Centre to try to work out where the race
would set off the following morning. It involved another bit of a
run. The vapours gave me quite an appetite once again so we made
haste to Lonestar Rotorua for the second time for our last supper
before The Big Day.
Friday evening back among the redwoods with Jan and Grant.
On Saturday 16th
in pre-dawn darkness, hundreds of runners gathered at the Redwoods
Visitor Centre. There were relay, 60k, 85k and 100k runners. Relay
runners had blue numbers and ultra runners had orange, but it was not
clear which ultra they would be running. We waited in the clouds of
disturbed trail dust for the 06:30 start command from Paul, and then
we were off, shuffling our way up the incline towards the steps that
climbed to the left turn towards the ridge. We caught glimpses of the
lights of Rotorua between the trees below to our left as the first
signs of dawn began to appear. I eased into the groove of the easy
early trail running as daylight appeared, imagining myself running
Western States again. Checkpoint 1 at Tikitapu (Blue Lake, 8.6 miles)
soon arrived – time for a quick refill then off, left turn and
descend to the sound of enthusiastic cheering in search of CP2.
I had an ambitious yet
realistic 13-hour schedule etched on my brain. I’d done The
Fellsman in around 17 hours over mostly unrunnable terrain with
gratuitous climbs and descents, so this undulating runnable trail
event over a similar distance should be much faster than that, or so
I thought in my naïvety. Ambitious would prove to be the word of the
day and almost the next.
Checkpoint 2 (Lake
Okareka, 12.2 miles) came even quicker. The sun was up, the heat was
on and I was already beginning to suffer. 2hrs 10mins had elapsed. Jan
met me here to tell me that I was 18 minutes up on the 13 hour
schedule. Already sensing the first signs of slowdown I couldn't get
excited by that factoid. I did my best to take care of fuelling and
hydration, already feeling that the 2 weeks of business travel in the
lead-up had done me no favours and left my fitness somewhat lacking.
[I notice time
after time how my fitness plummets with business travel or any other
rest, while more racing makes more speed. Here are some examples over
the years:
- Getting a Personal Worst at Osmotherley Phoenix after 2 weeks’ restful business travel, but getting a Personal Best a week after getting my all-time 100 PB at Western States;
- Near-PB at 5k within 4 days of completing Western States 100;
- One of my best Long Tour of Bradwell performances after Lakeland 100;
- One of my best Marlborough Downs Challenge performances a week after The Fellsman;
- Getting faster and fitter over 5 consecutive weekends of ultra marathons (including a Hundred) during a Runfurther Grand Slam year;
- Feeling strong and super fit and ready to take on the world after 7 consecutive days of ultra marathons (350km Swiss Jura Marathon).
Rest rapidly robs speed
and ruins fitness, so keep running.]
From CP2 was (almost)
the only stretch of road uphill to Checkpoint 3 (Millar Road, 13.9
miles). It was only 1.7 miles from the previous checkpoint yet I was
already desperate for the refreshments on offer. This was looking
ominous. I already seemed to be in survival mode and living
hand-to-mouth with my sustenance. I had plenty of my own food, water
in one hand-held bottle and Coke in the other, yet somehow I didn't
seem to be doing a very good job of looking after myself. We'd been
spoiled so far by the frequency of the aid stations, but from now on
the aid gaps lengthened dramatically. It would be 15 miles to the
next one. Self sufficiency would be called upon with the hot sunshine
doing its best to desiccate our suffering bodies.
It didn't turn out
quite as bad as that. The sun acquired some cloud cover and, more
importantly, we entered native forestry that kept us well sheltered
and enthralled with its sights, sounds and smells. Tree ferns large
and small took pride of place in the sights department. For the
sounds I was captivated by the birdsong from a particular type of
bird. It was a proper tune in a proper musical key that appealed to
my ear and stirred the emotions. It was repeated many times to
intensify the effect. Different birds (of the same species) sang
different songs, always in a proper key and repeated identically each
time. Smells, from what I can gather, should have been a lot danker
(and familiar to my nostrils) than they were due to the exceptional
dryness. Scents were the least memorable as a result.
The trail descended
into and climbed out of a ravine that was signed as a river crossing,
yet there was not a drop of water in it. As the miles ticked by there
was a lot of climb and descent with some hands-and-feet scrambling
over rock outcrops. As I neared the next checkpoint the first return
runners appeared, wearing ultra runner numbers. I was expecting the
first one to be Sage Canaday and if not Sage, Timothy Olson, but
these were neither Sage nor Tim. I was perplexed and concerned for
the well-being of the expected leaders. I found out later that these
first returnees were running one of the shorter distances and they
had an earlier turnaround.
I arrived at Checkpoint
4 (Okataina Lodge, 23.1 miles) with almost 5 hours elapsed to
rapturous applause, personalised announcement over the PA and a party
atmosphere. “This is just like Western States”, I thought to
myself. I felt uplifted. I asked if anyone knew where Sage was.
“Arrival imminent and definitely in the lead” came the reply. I
made straight for the refreshment tables for Coke infusion and food,
hoping he didn't whiz through while my back was turned. Jan had done
the business and got me a nice sandwich, half of which went straight
down, the other half saved for later. I was now 18 minutes down on
the 13 hour schedule. 36 minutes had been lost over the last 11
miles, but so what? I could only go as fast as my body allowed.
Schedules be damned. I don't normally work to schedules anyway. How
can you when every event is a venture into the unknown? I reverted to
my normal mentality of just getting on with it as best I could. 'What
will be will be'. From now on I would use 'the schedule' as a form of
entertainment; just how far adrift can I get with my best physical
efforts? We would see.
With a stomach-full of
sandwich and Coke and two refilled drink bottles, I bade Jan farewell
for the long 30-mile loop out to the turnaround and back to Okataina,
where I would see him again for another sandwich surprise. The first
23 miles had taken me 5 hours. We had no inkling that it would be
nearly another 8 hours before we would meet again.
I kept my eyes peeled
for Sage's appearance but advanced warning of returnees was often
impossible due to the twisting turning footpath and thick vegetation.
The running through the forest was now very technical up, down, in
and out, much of it on single track through rocks and roots where one
wrong foot move would have you over the edge. Often you could only
see a few metres to the next turn or mini 'summit'. At times there
was one place only where you could place your foot, typically between
a rock, a couple of roots and a precipice on one very well trodden patch of
dirt. Every time returning runners appeared I stopped and leaned to
the side to let them pass. Running was out of the question for me. I
appreciated the valid excuses to walk.
It was well over an
hour – in fact not that long before I reached the next aid station
– when our first 100k runner finally appeared. Warnings of his
imminent arrival at Okataina had perhaps been a bit exaggerated in
the excitement of the day. Sage was characteristically shirtless,
head down and grinding it out in complete concentration. He never
removed his gaze from the ground as he replied to my words of
encouragement. It was quite understandable given the technicality of
the trail, but I did wonder if he was suffering a bit as well.
1st Sage Canaday.
12 minutes after Sage,
Tim, also characteristically shirtless, loomed into view too late for
a head-on shot so we only get to see him run away past Paul C back
towards the finish. (His arrival had been preceded by the video
camera crew and Race Director Paul Charteris moving back along the
trail to intercept and capture those images.)
Paul stands aside for 2nd Timothy Olson.
9 minutes after Tim,
number three Vajin Armstrong was running in a group and enjoying good
conversation. His ever-present broad smile confirmed that he was
still enjoying life. He seemed to be running comfortably, well within
himself.
3rd Vajin Armstrong.
Checkpoint 5 (Humphries
Bay, 29.6 miles) arrived. I was feeling OK if a little depleted in a
normal, ultra-running sort of way. It was nothing that a bit more
food, Coke and electrolyte couldn't sort out. As I rested awhile I
noticed another runner's patriotically taped calves. I thought they
matched my shorts rather well.
The checkpoint
hospitality was soon left behind as I departed for the next one.
Returning runners were still passing at regular intervals. The
terrain eased a little to undulating, with mossy forest floors that I
was sure should have been a lot more damp than they were.
Checkpoint 6 (Tarawera
Outlet, 34.7 miles) appeared after nearly 8 hours elapsed. I was now
50 minutes behind the 13 hour schedule. Ho-hum. Most important was
that I was holding it together and going as fast as I was able while
giving myself a chance of finishing. Just as important was that I was
enjoying another new ultra marathon experience. Mr Patriotic Calves
was at this aid station too. We seemed to be shadowing each other.
From CP6 to the
furthest point at the turnaround was just 3.3 miles. Easy, but we had
a big staircase to negotiate first, followed by the Tarawera falls to
gawp at in wonderment.
The turnaround at
Tarawera Falls (37.8 miles) provided a surprise Checkpoint 7 with
refreshments. I was greeted by a leg of such colour I couldn't take
my eyes off it. Its owner had made it her storage and dispensing
facility for the elasticated bands that we would wear to prove that
we'd been there. She had a bright pink one at the ready, just for me.
I obediently put it around my arm with scarcely a murmur of dissent.
Madame leg prescribes a bright pink one for yours truly.
On the return from the
turnaround I finally made the acquaintance of Mr Calf Tape, around
the vicinity of the long wooden staircase if I recall correctly.
Fellow Brit Paulo Osorio was doing his first Ultra with virtually no
training beforehand. He was struggling along as a result, but he was
keeping a steady pace that was perfectly matched to mine, since we'd
been shadowing each other for miles. We agreed that we would carry on
together to the end for moral support and encouragement. I was
delighted to have an official running companion from now on. It
doesn't often happen; it's usually 'every man for himself' in these
events. However I did think to myself: if he can achieve that pace
with no training, what is he capable of with some proper training
under his belt? I sensed that I was in the presence of greatness.
Paulo descends the staircase.
Checkpoint 8 (Tarawera
Outlet return, 41.3 miles) came after just over 9.5 hours elapsed,
now 1hr 10mins behind the 13hr schedule. I continued to enjoy
comparing reality with the hypothetical schedule that had proven
itself to be based on fictitious assumptions. The Tarawera Ultra
Marathon was proving itself to me MUCH tougher than I had imagined.
It was no easy trail run, that's for sure.
After another essential
refuel and hydration and more banter with the aid station staff, we
were on our way once again. The outward runners had reduced to a
trickle and had all but ceased now. I figured that we were not that
far from the back of the field.
Checkpoint 9 (Humphries
Bay return, 46.4 miles) came and went, with another brilliant welcome
from the volunteers and excellent refuelling fodder. Paulo and I
talked about anything that came to mind to help pass the time and
take our minds off our individual suffering. He had one of those
newfangled GPS gizmos that I would never touch with a bargepole. It
beeped every km and Paulo converted the elapsed distance to a year
(e.g. 75km = 1975) and we had to recall everything we could think of
from that year. What a good game. Nice one Paulo. It provided us a
few hours' entertainment.
.JPG)
The calves at Humphries Bay.
As the next checkpoint
drew closer we came across some roving marshals on their mountain
bikes and supporters running back down the trail in search of their
runner. We asked what was happening. The cut-off time at CP10 had
been brought forward by an hour to 19:45, we found out later because
runners were taking much longer than expected to cover the final leg
to the finish on the modified, tougher course. I felt sorry for those
who would suddenly have an unexpected cut-off sprung upon them. I was
not too worried about Paulo and myself; we just had enough spare time
in hand, but it didn't stop me running that little bit harder into
the checkpoint.
Checkpoint 10 (Okataina
Lodge return, 52.9 miles) arrived to Western States-style fanfare
once again after (wait for it) 12hrs 46mins elapsed. Jan asked where
on earth I'd been all this time. Slogging my guts out to within an
inch of my life, came the reply; or words to that effect. I was
racked with mirth at now being exactly 2 hours behind the 13 hour
schedule. Not to worry though. Jan had a nice sandwich and lashings
of Coke for me to make it all better. Thanks Jan.
+-+Jan+ready+to+do+his+supporting+thing.JPG)
Jan welcomes me back to Okataina.
Darkness was not far
away now so we got our head torches out in readiness. The MC lady
with the mic was good enough to get mine out of my backpack for me, to
save me having to take it off and do it myself. Such service; I
didn't want to leave, but we did, at 13 hours elapsed and 15 minutes
before the revised cut-off. Now we had the long, tough slog into
darkness with big climbs and descents that I knew would take a long
time plus extra beyond our most pessimistic predictions. It became a
survival plod with muttering and chuntering about the distance being
more than advertised, and when is that pesky aid station going to
turn up? It's half an hour overdue. Etc. We were probably 'running' slowly.
It wasn't all
death-march misery though (did I just say that?). We got to hear many
sounds of the night from near and far. We got to see many pairs of
eyes of different colours reflecting our torch light back at us. The
eyes did not move. The tameness of the local wildlife was
unbelievable. We got to mix it on the trail with a hedgehog, several
possums and several wallabies, none of which were in any great hurry
to move out of our way. We never did see the depositors of the large
piles of dung on the trail, though. (Possums' eyes reflect bright orange.)
The re-crossing of the
dry river valley in the dark was interesting. The one place for
resting a hand (wooden post) now had a glow stick sitting on it. We
had to find alternative means of support on the steep descent to
avoid sending it tumbling to the bottom.
Finally yet suddenly in
the end, its presence pre-announced by lines of glow sticks,
checkpoint 11 (Millar Road return, 62.1 miles) appeared where the
trail climbed to join the road. Nearly home now, but not before
another brief sit-down and Coke infusion with the aid station
volunteers ordering us to get going. Oh alright then. 1.7 miles
downhill to the finish, except that it wasn't.
Paulo and I set off
running until it levelled out then began to climb a little. I was in
the all too familiar ultra shuffle survival mode and desperate to
walk, but I couldn't allow it, not now. Pride forced us both to
continue running the final climb and left turn onto the grass. Paul
Charteris shouted out a welcome announcement over the PA and Jan
waited at the finishing line to welcome us home. We crossed the line
in 16:23:27 with the time approaching 11pm, delighted to be done at
last. I was also delighted to have had such a good companion in Paulo
for the return leg.
All done and dusted (on our legs). The one sock is to keep my almost detached toenail in place.
The total distance was
63.8 miles (102.1km). I was shocked that it had taken me so long and
how unexpectedly tough it had been. Mid-pack runners were taking at
least 2 hours longer to finish than they would on the normal course.
That aside, I suspect most of my suffering was down to my inability
to fuel and hydrate myself adequately.
Sage Canaday went on to
win in 8:53:34, Timothy Olson second in 8:56:47 and Vajin Armstrong
third in 9:39:49. What performances, and what along day (for some of
us at least).
On Sunday 17th the long weekend of Ultra pleasure continued into its 4th day with prizes, presentations and special 5th anniversary cake back at the Holiday Inn Rotorua. I may have felt a little star struck when I chatted with Sage (a pleasanter bloke you couldn't wish to meet).
A new race that was the
best edition so far, a new country, new flora and fauna, excellent
support from Jan Danilo; it's all left me with amazing memories. I
hope the best of the photos I took communicate some of the magic.
Hot off the press – a
short, very professional event video has just been uploaded to
YouTube.
Absolutely fabulous Nick. Well done on an obviously wonderful experience out there. Hope to see you soon.
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