My first 24 hour track race: 2017 Sri Chinmoy Self-Transcendence Run

What will it feel like?

Many people can’t understand why runners would choose to run in circles on a 400m track for 24 hours. It’s a valid question – the extension of choosing to run in 2k circles over 100k. For me it was as simple as the above: I wanted to experience the highs and lows of continuing moving forward through the night. Distance, titles and transcendence would be a bonus.

I suspected I hadn’t done enough preparation – no excuses, just the way it panned out with life at the time. At the same time, I felt healthy enough, and got through a couple of long slow test runs adequately. Not wanting this to be yet another year I didn’t get round to trying a 24, I put in the entry. And then did a bunch of stilt-walking to pay for it, but I don’t think Strava counted that as training.

Going to National Road Relays with Hawks a week out from the event was great fun, and a nice distraction. I figured if the standard ultra takes 3 days carb-loading, a 24 could take a week’s worth, so made sure I started that nice and early too. I also spent a lot of time figuring out the best way to make a music playlist (first month of Spotify Premium free? Yes please), what songs to have on it (lots), and the optimum way to carry my phone with me (thanks, Trek’n’Travel).

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Lance kindly offered a couch for the Friday night, so I zoomed up to Auckland after work. I couldn’t have asked for a better host, as Lance is a pro at these events, and spotted exactly which things I was clueless about. We raided Geoff’s water bottle stocks (cheers Geoff), and sieved lots of white powder. Lance gave me some of his ginger beer stash. Good to go!

Following Lance in the morning made directions to Millenium Stadium nice and easy. We set up the table and tent, and met Twiss (below, centre), who was crewing for Lance and adopted me too. It was a relief to eventually get to the startline. All photos by the Sri Chinmoy team!

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Here goes nothing!

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The Sri Chinmoy team introduced all the competitors in the 24 hour, 12 hour, 6 hour and relay races, and then we were off. Sprint! (Just kidding.)

The first few hours were relaxed, and busy – people were very gracious, but there was a lot of slaloming around each other with so many on the track. The first change of direction came at 4 hours, and added a bit of excitement. It was nice to seeing Wayne Botha whizzing by periodically in his fast-cadenced bare feet, and catch up with current NZ 100k women’s champ Katrin Gottschalk (both in the 12 hour). It’s interesting how everyone has different strategies and speeds. Andrew stuck to his run-4-walk-1 approach without fail, and it appeared to go great guns.

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We had timing bracelets and personal lap counters, who were always encouraging, I worked out that mine eventually said ‘Go Dawn’ or ‘Got you, Dawn’ approximately 500 times over the full event. Phew. That would take some focus.

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My aim was to feel good at 6 hours and ok at 12. I enjoyed most of the day, especially jogging round in a train with Katrin and Susan Marshall, recent winner of the Sri Chinmoy 6-Day race in New York. Susan ran an amazing 656km there! We were both doing our first 24-hour race, but for her, it’s on the short side.

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I went through 100km in about 9.30, which was probably a tad fast. I’d planned for 6-min ks, but a tiny bit too quick per lap adds up. Nutrition was Tailwind and water and Vfuel gels, with some sushi and ginger and chippies, which all worked fine until it didn’t.

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Come 12 hours, a bunch of people stopped and had their part-laps recorded – Katrin won the race outright despite not feeling in top form that day. Bryan McCorkindale, always a class athlete, achieved an age group record here I think, before carrying on. The 12 hour would make a great taste of this type of running, as you get to enjoy the day and a bit of the night – and then go home! It started raining around the 10 hour mark, and didn’t really stop.

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It was great to see the mighty Mgcini turn up in the evening, fresh from pacing at Tauranga Marathon. Every lap he’d be sitting out by the table in the rain with a smile. I’d make random food requests and then change my mind the next lap. Good times.

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I apparently went through the 100 miles (160k) in about 16.40, and suspect it was actually a little before there that some wheels fell off, in a matter of 4 short laps or so. My right quad decided this was all a stupid idea and ceased lifting my leg up off the ground, quite a key motion in running; and my stomach got very unhappy. Consequently, I was reduced to a striding walk for the rest of the race. This was disappointing, as I’d started to get my hopes up for bigger distances, but I remember regrouping mentally and working out that walking 5k per hour for 8 hours should still get me over the 200 mark, and the primary aim was simply to keep moving forward and experience the night.

So I kept moving forward, as it rained on and on, sweeping in billowy clouds across the stadium lights and puddling deep in each track bend. I’d heard this 1am – 5am stretch was the hardest part of the race, and so it proved to be. Looking at the photos brought it back – it was never one agonising moment of struggle, just an ongoing challenge amid cold, fatigue and tedium.

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My music was a great help, and kept me going for a good 3-4 hours. I also thought a lot about the special people who left us too soon this past year and what it might mean to make the most of your own life, even the crazy whims that involve walking in circles. Sometimes there was something oddly beautiful and peaceful about the monotony too.

Unfortunately I was having trouble staying warm while walking, even with two thermals and a waterproof jacket. Mgcini had sensibly suggested I take off the wet singlet first before putting on the other gear, but I was all ‘nah, can’t be bothered, look, a fairy!’

Gotta love it when you run too long even for the clock to handle..

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Toilet breaks seemed to be happening way too often, and the whole sitting down motion had ceased to be fun hours ago. Funnily enough, although we were only 9k apart at the end, I never really ran with Slavomir Lindvai, the winning man – he was always going faster or slower. Just near the end we walked half a lap together and he said, well done, you are winner?, and I said nah, I don’t think so (ooh look, a fairy!), and he offered me Slovenian beer. In retrospect, this might have been a better bet for the stomach than coffee. Slavomir is a very strong athlete who’s reportedly run in the 240k region for this event previously.

Eventually the sky started to lighten – Tracy Benjamin made an obligatory ‘dawn’ joke! – and the end was kind of, sort, in sight (3 hours feels interminable by the end). Tracy launched into some tough love every time I went past which was great. I didn’t really know or care what distance I’d done (the lap updates only go up occasionally and I was cold) but she didn’t let me slack off: ‘You know you want the 200! Keep pushing it harder, and not just when you’re going past me!’

So I did, and made it in time for a few bonus laps (hoorah!). Below is me heading out on the final lap – I’m holding a personalised block to put down when the hooter goes.

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Although it was the longest race I’ve ever done, it wasn’t an equally intense experience to finish it. I was pleased and relieved, but the emotion was dulled by queasiness and cold. Twiss, bless her, went from not knowing me the day before to stripping me off and getting me through a shower. The chafing was truly epic. It could have won a chafe contest. There was a perfect chafe-bra, complete with all the chafe-seams. (Ultras are so glam.)

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At prizegiving, Andrew and I felt gradually sicker and sicker. I kind of love how this photo captures the moment. We’re each about to make a mid-speeches vomit dash (ultras are so glam).

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Ah, this one’s a bit more perky. I was really happy to follow in a long line of awesome runners and get the Sandy Barwick trophy for a while. Huge kudos to my fellow 24-hour runners too, especially Bryan (below) and Lance, who really are world class at this.

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Things to improve:

  • Eating. I don’t think there’s a magic answer, but I’d at least bring more savoury options and protein.
  • Pacing. It wasn’t terrible, but pulling back a bit more and possibly adding walk breaks could be a plan.
  • Chafe-avoidance. The ye-ow level of chafing was probably due to the wet-wet-wet level of rain, and I don’t know exactly how to fix that, but it’ll be something to work on.
  • Put some warm things on much earlier if required. Take off the wet ones.
  • Train some more

Things that went well!

  • No major injuries, not even Achilles issues (that’s pretty unusual)
  • Mind-set and focus was calm and positive almost the whole way, even with the disappointment of going to a walk
  • Shoes – the flexible Altra Escalantes were really comfy during 90% of the race, and I’d use them again. I did have sore blisters afterwards, but suspect this was always going to be hard to avoid in the rain.

In conclusion, I’m really happy I did the event. The organisers and other participants were great. Huge thanks to Twiss, Mgcini and Andrew for taking care of me along the way – hope to return the favour sometime.

I initially felt slightly ripped off that there was no euphoric transcendent moment, before coming to the conclusion that the keeping going was itself the transcendence. Would I do it again? Yes.

Splits to analyse >>

Official report >>

Full gallery of photos through the day >>

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Aftermath summary: The next day I couldn’t move much (quietest birthday ever), and it took 24 hours after finishing before I could face food again. I didn’t really lose any weight though (bodies are odd). It took a good 8 days before I felt I could jog, and I’m giving it a few more for good measure.

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PS – A bonus of this type of run is inspiring your offspring with your feats of perseverance. Or not.

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ANZ 100k championship 2016 race report

Mention the idea of running 100k in flat concrete 2k laps to an acquaintance, and they’ll look at you somewhat bemused. Even otherwise-hardcore runners don’t tend to get excited by the idea. No mountains, no soft trail, no point-to-point = no point?

Loopy fun

Loopy fun

The intrinsic pointlessness is part of the charm. It’s hard to explain, but the simplicity of the loop setup makes the body-mind challenge of the game more stark and intriguing. Today you traverse this (flat, concrete, FAR) distance. Don’t worry about carrying gear or getting lost or negotiating hills. It’s purely about maths, motivation and mind games, as well as camaraderie and courage.

Since dipping my toe into the ultra realm in 2010, I’ve felt weirdly drawn to the 100k road champs when they come around. Last year I was out due to fatigue and injury (more on that in a coming post), and this year I was unsure I had the fitness. Respecting the distance to me means averaging some 100k training week blocks in the leadup. I’d been doing 60-70 at a moderate pace, and Christchurch is a long way to go. April came and the decision had to be made.

Three weeks out, I set off in the dark for a make-or-break 10 laps of Lake Ngaroto (60k). If I could average 5 minutes/k, I’d take a punt on the champs. If I blew up, or was lots slower, I wouldn’t. In short, I held the pace for marathon distance and gradually deteriorated for the last 18k, but the average was acceptable. Talking to some encouraging adventurous people later that day sealed the deal (peer pressure works). I booked the flights.

Let's do this! Photo: Shannon-Leigh

Let’s do this! Photo: Shannon-Leigh

On May 1st at 6am, I walked into Hagley Park listening to ‘Heroes’ and joined a small brave band of ultrarunners congregating in the dark. It’s a modest field, spread over 50k, 50 mile, 100k, and 100k relay events, with two men and three women in the Athletics NZ championship category. “Odds of a podium spot seem good,” joked Phil Costley, as we picked up our numbers. Trouble is, you still have to run a fair way to that podium.

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Race start, 2016. Photo: Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team

After all the wondering and waiting and travelling, it was a relief to stand on the startline and set off. You soon get to know people along the way while passing and getting passed. It was fun to see the speedy Phil taking on his first 100k (he holds 32 or so NZ titles from 1500m up). Every 10k he’d lap me and chat for a moment, and I’d have a go at emulating his smooth running form for a few hundred metres.

The first 40k or so of 100k is pretty fun, by necessity. You’re running within yourself and enjoying the environment. My aim was to stick around 5 minute kms for basically as long as possible, which worked well. You can explore the numbers here if thus inclined, but essentially I held a consistent 4.50 – 5 minute per/k pace until 60k, and then drifted between 5 and 6+ until the end.

This is me congratulating Geoff on finishing his first ultra (50k). Photo: Sri Chinmoy

Congratulating Geoff on finishing his first ultra (50k). Photo: Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team

I enjoyed running with Geoff for 12k, who had done 18 marathons but was about to complete his first 50k ultra. We kept inadvertently speeding up while talking. Another nice man in a Quebec Marathon shirt would always greet me before I passed, picking up who it was from my quick cadence.

Realistically I don’t go into an ultra to ‘race’ – it’s more about pacing my own effort alongside others. I knew Shannon-Leigh and I might be well matched for the women’s title though. She led for some time initially. Around 50k I caught up and at some point lapped her (memory is blurry on details). We had a quick chat. She was pushing through soreness, and wondering whether to withdraw. I mentioned that ultras always have peaks and troughs so things could still turn, which would prove prescient.

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Photo: Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team

From there, I just got on with my own digging deep as the laps became harder and my legs whined that we didn’t really prepare for this. Around 78k or so I noticed I hadn’t seen Phil lap me for 20-odd kms, meaning he was facing his own challenges. By now I was negotiating the fragile knife edge of remaining resources, taking walk breaks periodically to marshall equilibrium. I have to admit it was a little encouraging to see Phil do this too after he did pass.

One down.. Photo: Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team

Another lap bites the dust.. Photo: Sri Chinmoy Marathon Team

Overall, I felt like the body was less trained than in 2014, but my mental tenacity was stronger. I broke down each 10k in 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, and focussed on something I was grateful for each lap – being alive with working limbs, beautiful trees, helpful people like Geoff and Judy who were helping fill my bottles. There are quotes by Sri Chinmoy around the course. My favourite was:

‘Each sunset is the beginning
Of a very, very bright
And powerful sunrise.’

This one was well placed to kick me out of a walk break. (I figured, egotistically, that Bright Powerful Sunrise could easily be the ninja version of Dawn Tuffery.)

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Phil ended up finishing (and winning) in 7.31. At 88k, I got a wee surprise as Shannon-Leigh surged past in an impressive comeback. I knew I was one lap ahead, but fading, and her strong pace seemed like it could be 5 minutes per k to my 6, which would see me caught within 12k. I didn’t have the energy to do much about it though, except keep moving forwards one step at a time. This all livened up the race for spectators, who started timing the splits. She was indeed gaining fast.

Those vertical lines are the walk breaks, AKA the wheels falling off and bouncing away

My pace vs the hours. Those vertical lines are the walk breaks, AKA the wheels falling off and bouncing away

As it happened, I crossed the line in 8.47, relieved and drained, and Shannon-Leigh came in a mere 6 minutes later. Much kudos to her too – while I didn’t have much energy left to respond with, it was a more exciting – and probably faster – race with us both pushing each other on, and a very equal effort.

Done! Feeling the love

Done! Feeling the love

It felt wonderful not to be running, as I lay on the grass and looked at clouds. 10 minutes on, I was hobbling around making plans for next time. Three hundys down, and I still feel like I’m just beginning to learn how to run them.

What worked well:

  • Pacing and sanity. The metronomic stride did its thing and I was chuffed to pull it off, after a questionable buildup. I went through the marathon 5 minutes slower than 2014 (3.25) and finished 5 minutes slower overall, meaning the last 60k were the same pace as 2014 despite less prep. I’ll take that.
  • Nutrition. Tailwind gets a tick from me after this experiment, though I had trouble drinking enough liquid near the end to get the calories in. It seemed to keep energy pretty consistent, and my stomach didn’t grumble for solid food like it does with gels. I’ll be using it again.
  • Footwear. I was nervous about wearing FiveFingers for the whole 100k given the hard surface. They’re still my favourites though so it was worth a go. My feet were tender by the end and didn’t love the ‘offroad’ gravel section but overall the shoes performed well and kept my feet quick.
With Phil Costley. Photo: Shannon-Leigh.

With Phil Costley. Photo: Shannon-Leigh.

Things to improve:

  • Training (do more). The standout opportunity really.
  • Lubrication. I’m usually happy with Bodyglide but bought this pink ‘for her’ version and got the worst chafing I’ve ever had, in 9 places. New formulation? It was partly due to frequent water over the head, carrying a few more kgs, and being blindly focussed at the end, but I would expect better. (After the race I noticed that the period I’d been expecting had arrived, but no, actually just the thigh chafing.) That was one sore shower.
  • Set up a better ‘aid station’ or talk my way onto someone’s table from the start. I put all my drinks and stuff on the ground assuming it’d just be a good rest opportunity but after a while couldn’t be bothered stopping/crouching.
  • I didn’t smile as much as usual after 70k. I think that’s linked to the training thing.
Post-race carb-replenishment at work - gluten-free!

Post-race carb-replenishment at work – gluten-free!

Muchos gracias: Big thanks to Tracey and Trish (wardrobe specialists), Marcus (Daws Osteopathy), Mary (Hukanui Body Therapies), Hamilton City Hawks (contribution to costs, and support), Ceana (morale-boosting stalker/nutritional support), Mark from Tailwind (nutrition contribution), Shannon-Leigh and Allen (great support and foot-saving car-rides), Geoff and Judy (bottle filling and mile-gobbling chats), Maryke, Felicity and family (cheer squad!), Nimbus crew (remote cheer squad), my family (generally cool), and Sri Chinmoy team (another great event and delicious meal).

Second win of the day - getting on to podium without falling off. Photo: Shannon-Leigh

Second win of the day – getting on to podium without falling off. Photo: Shannon-Leigh

I’m now recovering as per this smart article, and have no set plans for my next event. Maybe I’ll even write another post before 2017. Watch this space.

Full results and report by Sri Chinmoy here.

By the numbers

By the numbers

5 tips for running Tarawera Ultramarathon

Tarawera Ultramarathon is nearly here! I’m down to share tips at a Hawks get-together, and when I wrote them down as notes they turned into pictures. They didn’t turn into colour pictures though, because my child has apparently eaten all my good waterproof pens. Enjoy.

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1. Appreciate the moment – frequently. The start of an ultra is MAD, in a fantastic way, but take a minute to yourself in the dark and think about why you’re here. Think of the 5.30am starts to fit in training before work, and the ridiculously long runs you really weren’t in the mood for and the adventures with friends that have all prepared you for this day. Appreciate the victory of making the start-line, of having courageous and exciting life goals, of having a body that can do this. And then, don’t dwell on what has passed away, or what is yet to be. Just run, and revel in it.

This goes for later on as well. You might be grumpy, and have sore legs, and low blood sugar, but you’re still in one of the most beautiful places in the world and have limbs with the grace to perambulate you in a forward direction. Injured runners who couldn’t make the startline are insanely envious and might slap you for whinging.

2014 was easily my most enjoyable Tarawera to date, because I was relaxed from the start and had no expectations. I recommend it.

2. Take it easy.

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That follows on from being relaxed and is kind of a no-brainer, but START SLOW. Have fun. Breathe, talk, make faces at the cameras. Even if you’re doing 60k rather than 100k, you should definitely be feeling full of beans at Okareka. It’s much too easy to pick up the pace imperceptibly along those straights between the water tank and Blue Lake and later regret it. Don’t do that.

3. If it’s sore, sort it out

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Last year I had a niggly timing chip that eventually gouged its way into my ankle. I still have the scars from this because I couldn’t be bothered stopping to figure it out. If the race had been 100k, it could have been interrupted by this, so it’s worth taping a blister or removing the stone, or having the foresight to buy something like this.

4. Keep the core temp down.

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My hero for keeping cool in heat is US ultrarunner Pam Smith, who goes to the extent of ice in the knickers. Whatever you have available to you, make the most of it. A cup of water over the head at an aid station, a quick dip in the river or stashing some frozen drink in a drop bag? Worth a go. I was tipping water over myself even during last year’s cyclone.

 5. Removal of friction

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One more tip (just to keep it classy) – grease yourself up like a Turkish oil wrestler. I like Bodyglide, but anything of that ilk will do. It’s a long way. Things rub. Chuck a little bit of your preferred lubrication into your pack if you can. Unpredictable things will happen, but hopefully chafing won’t be one of them.

Enjoy the run.

I won’t be running 100k at Tarawera – long boring story of uncooperative health – but am excited to be running the first leg for a Hawks team, and cheering everyone on. See you there!

 

Blast from the past: Paris Marathon 2010

I wrote this four years back to pitch it as a travel article to a newspaper but never got around to it. Enjoy! Pre-child Europe jaunt.

Pee for Paree

Pee for Paree

People travel to foreign big city marathons for the buzz, the energy, the new experiences. The awe-inspiring amount of public urination before the 2010 Paris Marathon presumably falls into the latter category. Truly, I have never before seen so many men peeing. With these ritualistic tribes lining the streets, any polite aversion of eyes is pleasantly irrelevant.

Five months ago, entering Paris MoiMarathon to coincide with a planned Europe trip was an excellent idea. Since then, ultramarathon fatigue and recent injury (thwarting all training) suggest otherwise. However, we are here at ‘le departe’, with Nurofen, adrenaline and joie de vivre. Don’t try this at home. With 1 portaloo per 3000 runners, I’m glad today is not a nervous day.

The gun fires, probably – I can’t move or hear. A roar of glee sweeps back towards the Arc du Triomphe and the 40,000 strong crowd surges down Champs Elysees, euphoric (while maintaining impeccable pace judgement, of course). The early kilometres are a combination of marvelling at the surroundings and very careful placement of feet amid the mob. Someone falls. The first drink station is on one side only, causing a dangerous swerve to the side. But we trot along, buoyed by the constant support and the stunning beauty that is Paris.

DeparteMore than 80% of Paris Marathon entrants this year are male. With us femmes being generally sparse, the novelty prompts enthused cheering throughout. ‘Allez la femme!’ I hear repeatedly. Go girl! Encore la fille!

‘Vous êtes passés par une femme!’ calls a marshall teasingly to a man behind me. ‘Chicachicachica!’

At 11k, we hit the lovely Bois du Vincennes, and my injured leg throws in a protest. Merde. Limping with 31k to go is a bad sign. But after a kilometre or so of grimacing and muttering, it eases. Whether errant Nurofen or guardian running angel, I’m grateful.

Whee!

Whee!

A splendid variety of entertainment, or ‘animations’, lines the route, if runners need distraction. Running plus animation – two of my favourite things! We have ‘Chariots of Fire’ by bagpipe. Bizarre cheerleaders. Pink Floyd courtesy of a young cover band, with the Chateau du Vincennes in the background, and this juxtaposition is strangely poignant. But then many things have me moved, particularly the man running resolutely carrying a big Polish flag and the orange-clad teams pulling and pushing disabled runners in carts.

Better chocolate absorption? I'm in!

Better chocolate absorption? I’m in!

Running into the Bastille at the most popular support point, we hit a wall of sound. It’s tremendous. Above us is a winged statue with one leg outstretched. I wonder if it’s Mercury, as beloved of NZ’s own Lorraine Moller, and take heart from the fact. It turns out to be Winged Hope, which is also appropriate. Maybe I can make it after all. The carnage is beginning, though. Grimaces and limps abound, and a river of walkers widens as we pass the Eiffel Tower and stream through tunnels beside the Seine. One of these was where Princess Di died.

Next we conquer the rolling hills into Bois de Boulogne.

‘Seulement six kilometres, c’est facile!’ calls a cheery young thing. Easy? Pardon? Ce n’est pas facile! Has she tried this?

Sad decor, sad legs..

Sad decor, sad legs..

With 5k to go, a drinks table offers red wine and I down one on principle. At the next one, I revert to sports drink, or as it turns out, champagne. C’est la vie! Upon rounding a corner a man in elaborate national dress stands in the middle of the road. He’s slightly in the way and…holding a camel. Of course. Perhaps the wine is kicking in.

‘Bravo la femme, allez, allez!’ rings out one last time from a shriek behind me, and I dutifully sprint to l’arrive, to be enveloped by great relief.

Support crew

Support crew

In an hour, I will be hobbling painfully across the road among screaming vehicles, and cursing the prolific and steep metro stairs. I then learn that pedestrians are supposed to hobble under L’Arc du Triomphe, rather than dice with death. Tomorrow, an opportunistic cold dives gleefully on my fatigued immune system and I discover the limping and snuffling combination is seriously un-chic. In two days, we will miss our flight back to Heathrow, just pre-empting the expulsion of errant volcanic ash which would have made a much better excuse than vaguely miscalculating the distance to Charles de Gaulle because we were busy stuffing our faces in a boulangerie.

But for now, I appreciate the emotion of the man crying beside me as we stop, and breathe. We have run the Paris Marathon and life is good.

From the couch

Me and my germs listening to Talk Ultra in the lounge at 3am. Wild!

Me and my germs listening to Talk Ultra in the lounge at 3am. Wild!

I’m at home, by myself, on a beautiful day, with gifted garlic soup heating up in the kitchen. Life is grand. The only blight is the cold sitting like a small elephant on my nose. For the last few months my colleagues and friends have fallen like flies with loathsome lurgies but I’d become complacent. Seems like I don’t get sick. Must be all that healthy running. Then Wednesday’s run felt unusually flat, and it went downhill from there.

The silver lining is that I get to lie in the lounge and type delirious ramblings on to the internet. It’s been a little quiet blog-wise lately, mainly because I took some down time after Ultra-Trail Des Cagous (had a blast and the race report is up at Backcountry Runner, if you missed it). Recovery actually happened fast thanks to the relatively slow pace and soft surface – although 4 or 5 toenails are still MIA. But I then embraced laziness for its own sake, and sleep-ins and weight gain aren’t terribly exciting to read about. (On the latter: I don’t think my innovative high fat, high carb diet has a big future, but you’ve got to test these things.) kaimai_run

I don’t have specific races planned yet and reluctantly restrained myself from the Kepler entry fray due to logistics/budget. But I’m enjoying regular expeditions again. A couple of weeks ago, Ange and I abandoned our offspring and tested out a Kaimai route she’d wondered about – up on to the ridge, along the North-South track and down Thompson’s track.

Well, it got a big tick for adventure, and a minor cross for being less runnable than predicted. The ascent was fine, gravelly and day13straightforward. We paused at the top enjoying the view and the peace. Some nearby mystery hunters seemed to like it too. Turning right across the ridge, we hit some rugged overgrown terrain. With the per-kilometre pace sitting around 30 minutes, you’d probably call it a tramp not a run. Cold too, despite the fine day. The bush had that feeling that nothing ever really dries out.

Mums on the run! Found a little waterfall.

Mums on the run! There’s a waterfall behind us, promise.

Checking out the view - one of the benefits of running along a ridge.

Checking out the view – one of the benefits of running along a ridge.

Ange takes on a fun rocky part

Ange takes on a fun rocky part

Ladders, even

Ladders, even!

Rather nice..

Rather nice..

We found a good old-school hut, and wrote in the book. It was a little tricky finding the way back down again once we came out of the North-South track up top, but we got there eventually. Slip detouring added some extra road, so we were more than happy to get back to the car, clocking a mere 5 hours of adventure in total. Lots of fun. More please!

UTDC – the preamble (AKA ‘TMI’)

SAMSUNG‘You’ve run wearing a rectal thermometer before, right?’ asked Lillian, as she prepared the heat chamber. I laughed. Ho, ho, what witty banter! Ha ha ha. Ha..?

Yeah, it seemed she wasn’t joking. I figured doing the Ultra-Trail Des Cagous in New Caledonia would make for some interesting new experiences, but hadn’t expected them to kick in before leaving Hamilton.

Without a whole lot of training time after recovering from the 100k champs, I’d decided just to play with hills and warmth for two weeks, and Wintec’s School of Sport and Exercise had kindly agreed to assist with the latter. Cue the delights of a couple of sessions of monitored heat/humidity training. Many thanks to Lillian, Adrian and co for this opportunity. The aforementioned thermometer was actually no problem in practice but made for good war stories nonetheless. And Hadley gets coach points +1000 for taping the wire on to my back when required. It was interesting to see how quickly I got dumber over a mere 45 minutes of runnning in the heat – 80k could plumb new depths of dopey.

I also tried some Bikram hot yoga for the first time, which was intense but masochistically enjoyable by the third session. If only it was a tad cheaper. Also, the logistics started to look a bit like this, and that’s before adding in any child factors. I would like to do more though.

todolist

Hills were fun. Hills are always good. Oscar in his awesomeness accompanied me on some early morning Fanny Hill efforts, and I got over to Te Aroha with Ange, and Karangahake. Then it was pretty much taper time – again.

It feels like I haven’t ‘trained’ since pre-Tarawera in terms of proper mileage, but I hoped muscle memory would do the trick for my New Cal adventure. Spoiler – it pretty much did. Watch this space for an inordinately long writeup of a most excellent experience..

Trig with a view

Trig with a view

Trig with no view

Trig with no view

What’s next: deuxième partie

It turns out my comment about not entering any ultras for at least two months after the NZ 100k champs was a complete lie. Sorry, limbs. Encore une fois? (Wow, sudden late ’90s dance music flashback.)

For anyone who missed it, my 100k race report is over at Backcountry Runner. Short version: it went well, despite an overenthusiastic start. I ran 2k 50 times and got a PB and a cup. Also a drink bottle with a fabric handle, which Alba declared the best prize of all.

Since then, I’ve been a bit droopy and done not much. The hundy smashed my quads and energy reserves a lot more than Tarawera, maybe due to the surface, the speed and the extra 30k. I keep getting cajoling emails from the High50 Vertical Challenge who can’t comprehend my slackness, saying they see that I haven’t updated my Vertical Challenge log for some time now and what am I, some kind of crybaby flatlander wimp? The body’s creeping back into action though. I’m going to be a pacer for the first time at Huntly Half on Sunday and am more nervous about that than I would be taking part (responsibility!)

Also, I have been invited to an international race, which happens in three weeks. I’m quite excited about this.

woohooThe event is the Ultra-Trail Des Cagous in New Caledonia on June 7th –a pedestrian running of lowmountain range in semi autonomy organized by Nouvelle-Caledonie Aventure’. Take a moment and read Ruby’s report of the 53k version from last year, which she carved up as per usual despite running 7k extra and basically having to ski. This year Ruby is preparing to smash UTMB instead, sensibly forgoing the UTDC jaunt. Thus, I get to carry the torch, with trepidation and gratitude. It looks fairly epic. Jungle running in a new country!

I'm used to being a tortoise, not a lièvre

I’m used to being a tortoise, not a lièvre

Aspects of the description are slightly unnerving:

‘Every competitor can be submitted to a dope test, hanging and upon the arrival of the event.’ I’m fine with a drug test, but not sure about the hanging.. 

Anyway, it should be a grand adventure. I have an excuse to scatter arbitrary school French phrases around with abandon. There’s no time to train as such, so I’ll be going directly from recovery into taper. The level of elevation gain is new. I’m not going in completely green though – I did Cambridge Cross Country on Saturday, which had 4 metres, so it’s only another 3646 than that.

Deluded? Never! I’m off to the doctor today to be certified of sound body and mind. Wish me bonne chance.