Tarawera – Run With Dai

The Good, The Bad, The Ugly.

Published on December 30, 2020January 3, 2021 by runwithdaiLeave a comment

Since I started writing down my memories and running adventures, I’ve also summarised each year in a single blog. No different this year, only the content is a little blurred and includes a bit more personal snippets than I usually care to divulge, this being my running blog and all!

So where do I begin? Chronologically of course, but is it possible to recap the year that was 2020 without mentioning “the situation”. Probably not. It sucked for most people. Covid-19 that is. I don’t want to focus on it, but I have to acknowledge it. Like everyone else, it wasn’t the year we expected or planned for. So what started off looking like another action packed year of adventure with races spread across the year ended up being more fragmented with an unbelievable adventure followed by months of lockdown, a frantic flourish of running adventures before ending the year back in lockdown. It really was a year of good, bad and ugly running…

Way back in January, in the shadow of Brexit, I left the UK late on the evening of the 31^st January and began my planned adventures as I flew to New Zealand. The concern of Covid was becoming real and changes at airports and public places were starting to be seen. One week spent exploring the North island of New Zealand with the ‘Trail Maggots’ made me forget all about it. I felt untouchable on the other side of the planet. So off to Rotorua we went as I kicked off my year of running with my virgin ‘miler’ – the 100 mile Tarawera Ultra Marathon. My journey had begun with, once again, my biggest challenge yet!

Tarawera – What an experience! What a physically and mentally draining experience at that. But what a rewarding one. Crossing that finish line after 27 hours running around the spectacular lakes, mountains and waterfalls made me feel invincible. A hero to myself. Inside, my achievement gave me that warm satisfactory glow we all desire. I wore my finishers pounamu for weeks. Less so out of pride and more out of fear of losing it. I’ll never earn another medal like it!

Straight after Tarawera I spent another two weeks exploring the South Island of New Zealand with incredible adventures planned with Jorge, Natalia and Sean. I was now officially back at work (remotely) and was fortunate to be able to manage my time and squeeze in plenty of runs and hikes with the others. I didn’t want it to end, this was a dream. I still think about it. The space. The mountains. The tranquillity. New Zealand is a phenomenal place.

Next stop, for another week of work before two more weeks of holiday, was a stop over in Bali for a small piece of rest from running and hiking which, sadly for me, didn’t live up to the touristy hype. The places I visited in Bali were beautiful and dreadful at the same time. Still, I met Amir a few times on my travels here, ran around the Mt Batur volcano rim and recuperated a little ahead of the next adventure.

The next one really was the adventure of a lifetime. Adventures in Borneo. So much to say here. The Maverick team. Joanna, Richard and all the guys at Adventures in Borneo. The group of other runners, all the guides. The jungle. The rivers. The pineapples. The warm and welcoming Borneons… What a country. What an adventure. The only thing that would have made two weeks of running around Borneo (and seeing Orangutans) would be to have finished it off with a race. Oh, wait… I did! On the last day of my adventure I ran the Borneo Ultra Trail Marathon and finished in the top ten ahahaha what?! Told you it was like a dream!

This must have been early as I’m smiling

The dream quickly became more of a nightmare though as I left Borneo as they entered a nationwide lockdown and made my way back to the UK. I had just two weeks left in my job and I was now panicking about where the work will come from as, the moment I touched down I was advised to collect my laptop and work from home for the remainder of my contract. The UK I’d returned to was unrecognisable. And not because of Brexit which had dominated our lives for so many years. Within a week of my return the UK had too entered a state of emergency and a national lockdown soon began.

Two weeks after I’d flown home, I joined thousands of others in the rapidly growing unemployment community as the lockdown was enforced and the future became bleaker. I was lost. I was worried. Coming back from 6 weeks away to find I was now out of work was not ideal. Still I was thankful. I had a roof over my head, my health and some savings. I tried to remain positive but did find I was bored very quickly. Even doing all those DIY tasks I’d put off for so long and getting involved with various Instagram challenges (including walking steps everyday throughout April) didn’t occupy my mind enough. Turns out work really does give us a purpose in life! A fortunate turn of events in May meant I did find work again thankfully. I was one of the lucky ones.

And so lockdown continued. Race after race was cancelled. I, like many others faffed about rearranging flights, accommodations and trying to recoup money wherever I could (and now in December still am!). The lockdown brought other benefits though. I found myself running semi frequently. Although starting work again I soon fell out of this routine as I struggled to adapt to a new one entirely built around staying in my bedroom for the majority of the day working. Then, a new challenge lay on the horizon though and my running increased once more. The Centurion Running Community One event. I planned it with a personal challenge – to run the entire Capital Ring route with Paul. What an adventure, what a challenge, I was focused once more. In June, just as lockdown began to ease, we set off on an incredible adventure and a challenging one given the circumstances (access to food, water and support along the way was severely impacted). In just a few weeks though I’d refocused my mind, had a purpose once more and even managed to explore many new routes locally within London in the build up.

Fortunately, as the summer progressed, I maintained running thanks to the series of virtual events organised by Maverick Race. I’ve never been one to get involved with virtual events but these were with a difference. It wasn’t just a “off you go, do what you want” approach. They set up their event village and joined in with us each time and flooded social media throughout the day. It did feel like the closest substitute for a real event and provided a buzz that had been missing for so long. What a community!

In the middle of it all there was also a trip to Chelmsford to run with Joe. Joe and I, along with some others, had been doing various press-up challenges throughout lockdown and out of the blue Joe decided he wanted to run a marathon. So he did. With just a few runs under his belt he jumped straight in and ran a full marathon. What a guy!

As the lockdown restrictions continued and the cancellations came one after the other, wiping out my race plans, I was thrown another unexpected challenge. I had a place in two races on the same day in August and I hadn’t yet pulled out of either. The trip to Norway was inevitably cancelled but the Centurion Running NDW100 was still hoping to proceed. Suddenly, I was in line for another 100 miler again 6 months after my first. How had this happened!? This wasn’t the plan.

With just two months to re-plan and yet again refocus my mind for the next challenge, it is fair to say the training and build up was utter pants. I’m sure it was for everyone with the uncertainty. Truth is, by this point I came to accept that I’ve wrecked my body. My legs ached and hurt constantly. I’ve said it for a while. My approach is not sustainable. I can’t keep running so many long distance events and take the weeks off in between. I need to get back to a consistent level of running and training. The consistency I started to see at the beginning of lockdown was a thing of the past. But, hands up, I’m an addict. I can’t stop myself looking for the next challenge and signing up to more events and places to explore. I can’t convince myself to rest, repair and begin again. Maybe that would be my next challenge – To find wisdom and search for that sensible bone in my body, before I break that too.

And so, August came…. Further lockdown easing along with changes to operations and protocols meant England Athletics started to agree permits for running events to begin again. NDW had been given the green light. 100 miler numero deux was on. It was happening.

It was a formidable challenge. Turns out a heat wave decided to hit the UK that week. As if it wasn’t going to be hard enough already now we had temperatures of high 30s to battle against also. Battle I did and with the help of Nick and Jon as my crew and pacers I earned my 100 mile buckle to go with my Pounamu. 55% of runners DNF’d that day. Perhaps I was still benefiting from running in New Zealand and Borneo earlier that year and had some heat acclimatisation still!

The following week I returned, hobbling, to my favourite event – the Stour Valley Path 100 – for my fourth time. This time though, not as a runner. I volunteered to earn my yellow Tee and give back to an event that I partly hold responsible for my fascination (obsession?) with ultra running. Thanks Mathew! After experiencing the Covid protocols from a running perspective the week before at the NDW100, it was surreal to experience it from the volunteer side that weekend and be part of ensuring the safety and wellbeing of other runners chasing their goals.

Two weeks later came my first ever DNS (‘Did Not Start’) at the Wild Boar ultra in Bulgaria. We felt it wasn’t right to be swanning off and travelling the world during a pandemic so, instead, I went to Brecon with Jon and co. It was a sort of gentle easing back into running after the rigours of the NDW. I could have risked it and gone to Bulgaria but it wouldn’t have been the adventure I signed up for without all the others there too. Plus, I found the comparably small hills along the North Downs Way far more challenging than I expected. My Mountain legs were gone and I really would have struggled with the elevation of the Bulgarian mountains!!

After the adventures in Brecon, I was now booked into a double weekender with the Farnham Pilgrims marathon the day after the Eden Valley 50km. Earlier in the summer, as races were cancelled I started to book replacements. This worked out well as races started to get the go ahead but with limited places, they were selling out fast! The Eden valley Ultra was a joy. My first run with the Runaway Racing team and a beautiful looped course just South-East of London. The sun was shining for a super warm Indian summer day. I met Arlene and Jon and set off alone to chase a sub 6 hour finish. Coming in about 5 hours 20 with a big smile on my face I headed back to London to rest ahead of the following Day’s adventure.

Really enjoyed the trails on the Eden Valley ultra

The Farnham Pilgrims Marathon was also far better than I expected. Only because It ran along some of the NDW100 route, I assumed it would all be too familiar, but it wasn’t. The sandy course took me through parts of Surrey Hills I’d never explored before and I enjoyed running in the sun once more. The legs definitely felt the pains from the previous day and I completed the marathon in a similar time of just over 5 hours. The support from the Rotary Club throughout the event was top notch. We were well looked after despite the restrictions they had to put in place.

Shortly after my double weekend, we received confirmation that the Cappadocia Ultra Trail in the Urgup region of Turkey was cancelled. We’d expected this and thankfully I hadn’t booked the flights to Turkey yet and didn’t have to worry about chasing any additional refunds. I deferred to 2021 and started crossing my fingers once again. I’ve heard such amazing stories of Urgup and I’m itching to get out their and explore.

September was finished off with my maiden trip to the Peak District with the Maverick Race and their X Series event. This was my first of the X Series events and I was excited to pop my Peak District cherry too. The weekend was fantastic, travelling and exploring with Nick, Ale and Maria. Nick and I ran the whole route together and were accompanied with Daisy who we found at the start line. It had been almost a year since we’d run together and it was great to catch up and hear about all the changes in the last year.

I had such a good time in the Peak District I immediately told the Maverick team I was available to volunteer at their Surrey Hill events the following weekend after my own plans for that weekend were cancelled. A group of us made the way down from London to help out which involved running part of the course, marshalling a road crossing, screaming and shouting into the rain and then helping sweep up the course markings after the final runners. It was good to be out volunteering again and it made me reflect on the different volunteer roles I’d supported events with over the past year. Definitely reach out to event organisers and offer up your support if you are contemplating volunteering.

Still high with excitement I managed to bag a last minute place in Maverick’s X Series Dorset ultra too. I was hooked. Ignoring the recurring aches and pains from all the running I’d been doing. At this point I couldn’t shift my mind from thinking that, all going to plan, with the remaining events I had booked in I’d be able to hit my 50th Marathon (official event of a marathon distance or longer) before the end of the year. It was a goal, a target now!

Maverick Dorset was like picking up exactly where we left off a few weeks earlier. A group of us headed down to the coast and the next morning left the starting line together for another 54km adventure. Through the morning rays we stuck together laughing and enjoying our adventure for 30kms or so until we split off into pairs to finish the day. More beers and Jimmy’s coffee awaited at the finish line before we headed back to the hotel to stuff our faces on some amazing fish and chips like champions.

The following weekend I was heading down to the somewhat familiar trails of the Beachy Head Marathon – I’ve run this course before, on the 30th December 2017, just as I started getting into trail running. But that was a social, group run. It wasn’t an organised event and now it was finally time to go and experience the route under race conditions. It was a tough day as I did set myself a time target for this event. After speaking with Paul and the cancellation of our planned trip to the lake district, I was now planning to be pacing Paul to a sub 20 hour finish on his SDW100 run in a few weeks time. With some incredibly basic math, I needed to be sure I could comfortably run a sub 5 hour marathon on the South Downs. This was my opportunity and I set out and achieved just that. It did give me some confidence as I’ve become so used to just plodding along and enjoying myself too much to care about finish times!

The next day, I headed back down to Eastbourne to help Jon crew Elisa and Lou on their South Downs Way 50 miler. It was great to be back on the other side of the fence and supporting and cheering once more. The girls were phenomenal and both ran a brilliant race to beat their goal and target time. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone mess about and enjoy a 50 mile run quite as much as they did!

I was now heading into a busy period with more back to back marathons and ultras. Next up was another first, the inaugural Wild Trail Runners Marathon as organised by Weronika. A few months earlier I’d offered to help support and run the route with her. The aim was to complete a trail marathon in 6 hours. No pressures. I just needed to help guide some runners depending on the numbers and local restrictions. It was back on the North Downs Way and running from Guildford to Merstham once more. There were about 13 of us so we split into two smaller groups and set off for what we knew would be a wet and miserable day. It certainly was wet, but not miserable as we slipped and slid along the trails. Sadly two runners dropped out before we reached Box hill so we reformed into the original larger group when Weronika and her runners caught up with us. Weronika pulled off a fantastic day and we were all treated to a Wild TR branded beer and a homemade medal for our efforts. I didn’t know then, but it was likely that this bonus medal was to be my last and final medal of 2020…

Arriving home that Saturday evening, everyone’s least favourite Boris announced that England would be back into lock down for a month. Within hours it was confirmed, the SDW100 was cancelled – I’d no longer be pacing next week. The Wendover Woods 50km was also cancelled and soon after it was confirmed too that the Camino Lea Valley ultra would also go the same way. My adapted plans to complete my 50th marathon in 2020 were over. There were bigger things at stake once more and rightly so.

This set me thinking. It was time to do the sensible thing. It only took a second bloody lockdown for some sense to be knocked into me. It was time to rest. With the Cheviot Goat scheduled to be just 4 days after the lockdown was proposed to end, my expectations for it to go ahead were small. My intentions to start the event if it did proceed, they were becoming increasingly smaller… a few weeks later it was indeed cancelled and I deferred to 2021.

And so it was the most opportune time to rest I would have for the past 3 years. 2020 has taken its toll on me physically. I achieved a lot. A helluva lot! 3 of my 5 furthest runs had been completed this year. I did it without any structured or even routined training. I lost a lot of fitness and winged a lot of my events. I relied on my brain and experience (no bad thing!) and to some degree just shrugged my shoulders and got on with it. I was in physical pain. For months now, during each run, no matter the distance, my right leg hurt. It started with a calf pain after the Tarawera Ultra Marathon in February. It morphed into a shin pain after I ran the Capital Ring. Then since the end of summer it was my ankle that was the problem. It was weak. It felt brittle. It hurt a lot even when I wasn’t doing anything. My mindset was simply to normalise it. If it doesn’t hurt any more intensely when I run, then I’ll just keep on running. After the last marathon in October, I had similar pain in my left ankle too. Great, twatty twins for legs. Constant pain wasn’t a good enough reason to stop and rest in my mind. But, Boris had thrown me a lifeline. An opportunity. I had nothing to run for in the next four weeks. Removing the Cheviot Goat from the equation meant I had no goal or focus until the beginning of 2021. Suddenly I had time to stop. Time to rest, to repair and then to rebuild. My Lockdown plan became clear in my head. I planned to not run (yes! Not to run!) for 6 weeks. 6 weeks without pounding the ground, 6 weeks with a shift to low impact exercise to maintain fitness and strength. 6 weeks to allow my body to heal. I’d then start again, easy and low mileage and build it up gradually. The goal was to give myself a chance, a chance to get through 2021, as the way things are lining up, 2021 will fuck me up even more than 2020 did! What I was doing was not sustainable. A new approach is needed, a new beginning was required.

This had become my biggest challenge and thankfully the lockdown removed a lot of the temptation to run which made it easier. It didn’t however remove the temptation to plan and sign up to more events which I succumbed to way too easily. I made it through 5 of the 6 weeks. I was happy with that. I could have made it to 6 but I started exposing myself to running again and the temptation became too much. I felt good. I felt like I’d had a strong and consistent 5 weeks and vowed to continue the strength training, yoga and cycling that I’d reintroduced to my daily routine. 2021 was inching closer and I had new goals and targets to prepare for…

Quite a collection of real(!) and virtual achievements during a pandemic!

That was the year wrapped up. 2021 is now full of deferrals and substitutes and packed more tightly than 2020. 2020 started amazing, went rockier than the Trans Gran Canaria of 2018, but, somehow, I ended the year with almost 50 marathons under my belt (by completing another 8 official events). Wow, how did this happen? I vividly remember telling people about my plans to do my first ultra just 3 years ago. Here I go though, cracking on, I’ll hit that 50 milestone in 2021 for sure and might as well target the 100 at some point. For fucksake Dai…

Final Thoughts….I am in control. My happiness is paramount and everyday I have the courage and ability to protect that happiness. 2020 came with challenges, heartbreak, fear and more worries than I’m comfortable with. Difficult decisions and obvious sacrifices were needed and there were plenty of mistakes made along the way. Whether it is running or my personal life, I know I can, I’m sure I can and I will and I do. I trust myself and know I’ll never forget what I can control and what I can change to achieve what I set out after.

In last year’s recap I noted down some standout memories, so I thought why not, lets do it again…

Best Views

The lakes of the Tarawera 100 Miler in New Zealand. Just stunning.
Borneo Ultra Trail. The mountainous landscape and dense jungle forests and Mount Kinabalu as the backdrop
Maverick Peaks. Talk about unadulterated skylines. Hardly a building in sight. Not the highest, but a spectacular landscape.

Hardest Race

North downs Way. I didn’t set out to do a second hundred mile event in 2020. But as I approached it, I did want to make sure that the first one wasn’t a fluke. This was supposed to be easier than the first. It turned out to be harder. One of the toughest I’ve done. A heat wave in the UK, my body was drained. My mind was constantly fighting. The 55% DNF rate says it all. I’m proud to have completed this one.
Borneo Ultra Trails. The heat and humidity on this race is by far the worst I’ve ever experienced. It was a long hard day out in the jungles of Borneo. Powered by fresh Pineapple and a rest of well over an hour where I didn’t stop sweating at the halfway mark got me through. Jumping on a 15 hour flight 10 hours after finishing was probably not the best decision I’ve ever made!

Let it be known that you can measure the difficulty of a run by your love of the Chair! The state of me!

Best Achievement

Tarawera. My first 100 miler. Like any first, it will linger in your memories forever. What a place to experience my first 100 miler. Everything about this event was fantastic. I’ll never forget this achievement.

Best Kit Bought

Tough one, I’ve not had to buy much this year as I already own far more kit than I need. Almost by default it goes to the Adidas Terrex Agravic Split Shorts. Less the ‘best’ and more the ‘new’ item of kit I’ve enjoyed the most – I needed new shorts. The shorts are proper short but kitted out for trail running with multiple waistband pockets and pole holders. They are made of pretty much no material (not reflected in the ridiculously expensive price!) but are so comfortable to wear.

Most overused Kit

Inov8 Roclite 275G. Damn these shoes are like slippers and boy are they tough and hard wearing. They’ve been on all the big runs in the last year. I’ve now switched to using them for the last half of these races (which in a few cases have still been 80km runs!) as they are so comfortable and offer great protection when my feet are a little worse for wear. The Graphene grip is fantastic too.
Squirrels Nut Butter. You don’t run 100s of miles without chafing and the Nut Butter is by far the best anti-chafe solution I’ve used. My skin would be non existent without this!

Fav Race Swag

Maverick Race won this one. For all their events, besides a medal you get items from their many sponsors. Iced Coffee, beer, protein bars, protein shakes. Whatever goes on the day of the event you are doing. One thing is for sure, when you finish, you struggle to carry everything you’ve just been given. Most generously, this was also reflected in the virtual event series Maverick put on in 2020 with many vouchers, discounts and stickers arriving in the post for the events you completed. These guys know how to please us!

Best Dog

There were a lot of dogs on the trails this year. There were two standout candidates though…

The late comer that was Bruce with his little bowtie – a ‘borrow my doggy’ dog that Nick started bringing on runs. Boy can this lil’ fella run and he’s the quietest dog I’ve ever met.
Then there was little Bonnie who took us on a run around the Thursley Nature Reserve in Surrey. She started off unsure, but a few hours later was chasing me around the field.

Thought of the year

“That was a good few miles of running!!” After what would always turn out to be just a few 100m of running during the tail-end of the NDW100 event. Time and distance were certainly distorted for me!
When Nick offered me painkillers in the NDW100 my response was “nope, don’t fuck with the boys in the Command Centre“. Got to keep the mind clear and stay focused, pain and discomfort is a remainder of the reality of the situation.

Fav Trail snack

Pineapple. I’ve never tasted pineapple as good as that fresh pineapple growing on the Pineapple Ridge in Borneo. It has always been my favourite fruit but this took it to a new level!

Best Medal

Without doubt the Tarawera 100 mile finisher Pounamu. I will probably never receive such a fantastic finishers gift again. Personal, chosen by me from the hundreds of variants on the finishers table. Earned, not bought. This is something else!

Most memorable moments

Running around London with Paul. it made for a great Strava map!
Finishing the NDW100 knowing that it meant the first 100 miler I finished wasn’t just a fluke.
The end of the rest period!! I was glad to be back running again.

Not sure if I mentioned we ran around London?!

Most beneficial training

Toss up between stairs (again) and yoga. Let’s go for yoga. 20 minutes a day has now become part of my routine. Never have I stretched so much in my life! To be fair, I did try yoga for the first time in the most spectacular of places in Borneo…

2020 was not all that bad it seems, but lets not be too positive – let’s get some miserable shit in here as well this year, simply because I’m a grumpy Grinch…

Most irritating comments of the year

“This must be easy for you”. This always feels like some sort of backhanded compliment smothered in self pity at the same time. Here’s the thing, no, no its not. No run is ever easy and they can’t be compared. For example, having run a longer distance previously doesn’t make a shorter distance run any more achievable or certain.
“What’s your next race / what have you got lined up?”. I may just be a grumpy twat, but this always feels like a bit of small talk and an opener for someone to just brag to you about what they have coming up.
“I couldn’t do what you do”. That’s bollocks. You can. Anyone can. I’m not special. What you’re really saying though is “I don’t want to do what you do”, because if you did want too, you would.

Social Media trends that annoyed me the most

Boosting one’s self worth by offering some much needed “top” tips to nobody who asked… oh it’s warm, top tip – drink water and hydrate when you run. Never thought of that one. No one cares.
Advertising the water repellent fabric on your (gifted) trainers by running through tiny puddles. Sigh. No one cares.
Measuring your trail running CV by the amount of mud on your shoes/socks/legs. Well done. No one cares.
The ongoing need to demonstrate one’s resilience to weather by captioning that you are wearing shorts. Congrats, we can see that. Guess what… No one cares.
The Instagram inception stories… you know the ones where I share a story you tagged me in and then you share my story and I share your story of my story of your story and down the narcissistic rabbit hole we go. Yep, No one cares.
Posting a story of your own post on Instagram. Got to hit that “look at me” algorithm. Still, No one cares.

I could go on but I won’t because clearly I do care. Dammit.

Worst recurring song lyrics stuck in my head

“Have you ever put butter on a pop tart, its soo frikken gooood…” Cheers Nick. It’s been lodged in there for months
On my last few runs it has been “Scooter – Fck 2020” that has been stuck on loop. Every so catchy/terrible and certainly the song of the year.

Chasing Pounamu

Published on February 23, 2020April 12, 2020 by runwithdai

The Toki pounamu for finishers of the Tarawera 100 mile endurance event

‘Chasing Pounamu’ is a short documentary about one runner’s quest to complete the Tarawera 100 mile endurance run. Runners completing the event are gifted a Pounamu – a local Maori gemstone made into a necklace. It’s a heart warming and emotional watch (you can find it on YouTube). One I watched a few weeks before I headed out on my own quest to ‘chase the pounamu’…

Last year, when Kirsty left the UK to return to New Zealand, a few of us said we’d come and visit sometime. Little did I realise a few months later I’d be signing up to my first 100 miler in New Zealand. 100 miles was never on my to do list. However, over the past 12 months my running distances had been slowly creeping up and 100 miles suddenly became the next logical step. Although It wasn’t until I was on the sign-up page for the Tarawera Ultra Marathon (TUM) that the decision was made as, unlike the other events at TUM, the ‘miler’ finishers are gifted with a pounamu. I signed up immediately.

Fast forward some 8 months later and we are reunited with Kirsty in Rotorua. Like many events I didn’t feel as ready as I could or should be. Especially for tackling my first 100 mile event. A recurring pain in my ankle/shin had kept me from running for the whole of January (with the exception of the Maverick race in Amberley). My mind was focused though. No way was I not starting. No way was I not finishing. No way would I be leaving without that Pounamu! For weeks my mind had been consumed by the race. I’m not sure why. Maybe because of the costs. Maybe the extent of the adventure I was embarking on for 6 weeks. Maybe because I was nervous. Either way it helped me to focus and visualise on the end goal. I was determined and would be relying more than ever before on the experience I’ve accumulated from running ultras…

The day before the race we went to the Maori Powhiri at Te Puia. A traditional welcoming ceremony which welcomed the runners to the event and officially opened it. With talks from the race founder, Maori leaders and the town Mayor as well as singing and dancing it ended with a hongi – a significant expression performed by rubbing noses. It was , to a ‘Westerner’ unusually special. I’ve never felt so at home at an event before. The runners were told that we were now part of their community. Their family. That together we’d see success in the event. It was all rather touching. We then went and registered and collected our bibs (and do the weigh in for medical reasons). This was the quickest of processes as we’d already passed our mandatory gear checks – the event had a unique collaboration with Macpac (an outdoors retail chain) where you could visit any store in the days leading up to the event, do the mandatory gear check in store and receive a signed certificate to present at registration instead of taking your kit with you. This made the whole process so much slicker, how any of it is actually governed come race day I do not know though! The afternoon involved some relaxing in the heated hotel pool and then as much sleep as I could possibly get!

It was time. After a few hours sleep I found myself creeping around in the dark at 2am. The 3 others in the room were still sleeping, squeezing in an extra hour for the later start of their 100km race. Final preparations and checks completed and it was time to leave, just as it started to hammer down with rain. Hugs and high fives all round. Andy kindly drove me to the start back in Te Puia and Jorge, being the ever generous and supportive friend he is, came along too. We rocked up in a very empty car park. Jorge sported Adrian, the man at the centre of ‘chasing Pounamu’ and I followed him inside the cultural centre to the start line right up by the active Pohutu geyser – Pohutu happens to be the largest active geyser in the southern hemisphere and erupts once or twice every hour, sometimes reaching heights of 30 metres!) which was erupting magnificently in the darkness. The start line was covered in the spray and mist from the sulphur activity. I sat on the hot rocks nearby and waited patiently. I did one final ‘body check’ and mentally confirmed all was good – nothing but the normal few amber warnings flagged up. I was as ready as I could be.

The Pohutu Geyser in Te Puia at the Start of the miler

As the MC started to welcome the runners and brief us on the journey ahead we congregated behind the start line. Our welcome climaxed in a traditional Maori Haka and traditional singing. With Pohutu erupting behind us it was a truly surreal and magical moment as the race director and crowd of supporters counted us down and sent us off on our challenge…

For a moment I was overwhelmed as I crossed that start line. To cheers and applause I realised this is the moment of races I like most. A sense of awe from the crowd. Respect and appreciation as they spur on loved ones, family, strangers. There’s no competition, only encouragement. the beginning of an epic challenge and adventure, however it turns out. At this moment I feel invincible. I smiled and clapped back, as I always do. I wish this feeling would last more than a few seconds!

We ran through Te Puia and very quickly found the trails as we made the first 13km to the first aid station. The first set of paths were hard and dusty. Uneven but nice to run. They led us into the first of many forest tracks we’d run this day. It was still raining but as we entered the Redwood forest the rain was but a light mist/spray that was cooling in the humid morning. The head torches lit the way as we traced the winding paths through the woodlands. The pack of just under 300 runners was already beginning to spread and I found myself following a group of maybe six runners keeping pace together. Before I knew it a sign screamed out at us “aid station 200m ahead”. Little did I know how much I’d look forward to these signs later in the day!

Leaving the aid station we were immediately back into the forests. These paths were different though. More single tracks. The floor littered with roots. A few times I tripped but thankfully never fell. Areas of steps provided extra challenges in this part as we navigated the trails in complete darkness due to the thick foliage and cover. The smells were incredible and so vibrant and I was smiling as I wound my way through moew twisty tracks. Another aid station came and went and I then found myself running alongside the Green Lake. The sun was starting to rise and the paths navigated ran alongside the lake as the sun began to glisten and reflect off the water. The trails were undulating with little stretches of running broken up by short climbs. We burst out of the forests and ran a section along a sealed road. Cones marked the way and signs encouraging the runners to keep inside the cones. I felt the road. It was dull and tedious after the trails before it. Thankfully though the Buried Village soon appeared. The third aid station and one of historical importance – a heritage site persevering a village buried under rock, ash and mud following the eruption of Mt Tarawera.

Inside the Buried Village the atmosphere was electric. Loads of supporters welcoming the runners in to the aid station and a lady on a mega phone cracking the jokes and encouraging everyone on. I had some jam and Nutella sandwiches made for me by the volunteers and cracked on to the next section which would be the second longest stretch between aid stations with about 15km until I reached Isthmus. I did stop very quickly for a picture at the view point and then again to take off my arm warmers and pack them and the head torch away.

This section was by far my favourite part of the race. The Buried Village was beautiful and the trails undulating along the rock face. Fauna surrounded us and we were soon presented with incredible views across lake Tarawera as the sun continued to glisten and reflect off the water. The paths then opened up as we reached the lake. The soft grassy trails which followed the contours of the lake were a joy to run on. As we closed in on Isthmus I noticed some odd signs warning of zombies and that ‘any zombies chasing humans would be shot on sight’. It took me a while before I realised the it was a sign for the aid station and that all the aid stations were themed. This one for a Zombie apocalypse. I thought it was a great way to raise a few smiles and provide entertainment.

A bunch of runners came in after me and I didn’t hang around too long. It was just over a km until I’d reach the ferry crossing to get to the other side of the lake Rerewhakaaitu. I didn’t want to end up in a queue for the boat so I stepped on it a little. As I arrived at the jetty there was sadly no boat waiting for me. Two ladies, Sue and Femi sat waiting with mocktails. The volunteer was preparing juice and ice mocktails for the runners and they were an absolute treat. I picked one up, clinked glasses and sat down to joined them. As we waited he explained there had been an issue with one of the two boats. By the time it arrived 12 of us shuffled onboard to get to the other side. A few minutes later as we unboarded the runners fled off into the distance and running through the private farm roads. We then hit a long road on a gradual incline. I briefly chatted to sue as she ran a steady pace running to heart rate. She gradually pulled away as I was adamant I was walking it all. I didn’t want to burn out so soon!

The road continued for about 5km before we reached the next station at Rerewhakaaitu. It was still morning but getting very hot now. I took advantage and lathered up with the suncream available at the aid station before hitting the road again. And that is what it was. More road. More tarmac gradually climbing as far as my eyes could see into the distance. I hiked on. I was amazed by the persistence of runners who ran it all. The farmer themed aid station of Okahu broke up the road briefly but more was to come. By the time we left the road I think we must have covered somewhere between 10-15km. It was soul destroying. The return to the trail was most welcomed.

A small section of the seemingly never ending road

The trails were now long and wide gravel tracks worn over time by vehicles. Again the paths were undulating with gentle inclines and down hills alternating. A good section for running and getting into the flow again. That was until towards the end of the section where a climb of about 200m was lurking. As we reached the top and the aid station at Wihapi the volunteers apologised for the hill. I laughed and said it was easier than the road. It certainly was for me!

From here the wide gravel paths continued. Only down hill. The longest section of downhill on the route and I thought it was as soul destroying as the road. Why? Because it was so straight. You could just see the path continue into the distance and never ending. Mentally I found it tough to keep moving at pace. Somewhere around here I’d started talking to another runner – Thomas. We’d been leap-frogging each other for a while and had settled into a comparable pace. He seemed fine with it when I kept pointing ahead and indicating where and when I’d start walking or running. Puhipuhi was the next destination and one that marked where the route would join with that of the 100km runners. Those runners would be well passed by now though having started 3hours after the miler and having just 20km to run to get to the same aid station. Hopefully that would mean the trails would be quieter for me for the rest of the day. The volunteers offered me plenty of ‘crippies’ and ‘lollies’ as well as the option to lay in their paddling pool. I declined the later but did discover Mountain Dew. Something I’ve never tried before. I thought it was ace, even though it is probable a chemical concoction I do not want to know more about! As I drank the Mountain Dew, it was the first moment that it dawned on me how far the race was. 80km in and we were only half way there. Halfway! Shiiit. That thought would linger for a long time.

Chatting away to Thomas I completely zoned out on the way to Tiktoki. I remember the trails were still long and wide but now more grassy and more dirt like rather than gravel. Some woman also joined with us for a short while. She was memorable because she was completely soaked (somewhere she’d gone for a dip in the lake!) and because she shared insight and knowledge as the was her second time. She encouraged us to reach Hhumphries before dark as that section was technical. She vanished before we reached Tiktoki and was no where to be seen when we arrived. As we sat and ate at the aid station we chatted with several other runners. One explained he was done with the sweat food and a volunteer overheard and brought out bacon and egg pie. Woooah. This was great. Back on it now! 10km until the 100km mark and a key milestone in my race because (1) I’d mentally split it into 3 x 50 kms. I knew if I got to 150km I’d finish. So 2/3 of the race would have been completed when I reached the Outlet. (2) it was where my drop bag was located. So time for a longer rest and mid-race maintenance. For me this means a wet wipe shower, change of socks, t-shirt and shoes. Reapply Squirrels Nut Butter to prevent chafe. Swap out and refill my nutrition stash and dump any unnecessary items. This time I got rid of the Gopro, sunglasses and running belt (used to carry my phone but I was no longer in the mood for photos so in the backpack it went!). Before I reached the Outlet though it was more windy forest trails. The highlight of which was a section running along one of the clearest rivers I’ve ever seen. Somewhere hidden here is the Tarawera Falls. You could hear it for a long time before we reached it. The water was gushing out of the mountain through many holes. We took a moment to enjoy the view before continuing.

As I was going through my drop bag routine I told Thomas to crack on. I was going to be here for a while and didn’t want him waiting for me longer than he was prepared for. As is the case with these races you often see people again at different stages. We wished each other well and I got stuck into some more hot noodles. I was all about the hot savoury food now! Loads of runners came and went in my time at Outlet. But when I left I was born again!

The next section was the technical bit to Humphries bay running alongside the northern side of lake Tarawera. Crazy to think I’d been looking across the lake to this area maybe ten hours ago after I left the Buried Village! It was Only about 7km and I was feeling rejuvenated so I ran. I ran well. I passed maybe ten runners on this section as I leaped and bounced around the roots and lunged up the rocks and powered through. It was fucking humid too. As the day started to end the humidity In the forest increased. My fresh kit was quickly as wet and stinky as the stuff I’d changed out of. Despite the running it took a while. A good 1.5 hours for such a short distance before I emerged into the scout base of Humphries bay. Here I persuaded a volunteer to make me a cheese toasty using the volunteers sandwich maker. She wasn’t too eager but how can you say no to someone running a 100 miles?!

Leaving Humphries it was a similar story as I made my way towards Okatania. More forest paths. Less technical thankfully but still many roots and fallen trees to climb or duck under. The legs didn’t appreciate those lunges now! It was still very bright as the sun set over the lake but as soon as you turned back into the ‘bush’ it was pitch black. The headlamp had to come out. It felt odd as I could look up and see the light beyond the foliage. It just wasn’t reaching the ground. I found Thomas again and we carried on into the darkness for the several km remaining of this section, which felt so much longer.

I lost him once more at the Okatania aid station. This one was pumping. Okatania, with its circus theme, was a hive of activity. Not only was it another drop bag and support aid station, but it was where miler runners could have a pacer join them for the last marathon. Yep. Three back to back marathons done, one remaining. I sat down with some soup and more egg and bacon pie and a woman started talking to me. She was waiting for her husband and was asking how it’s going and if she could get me anything. So kind. I was sorted though. Warm belly and more fluids taken on board as well as a third water bottle filled up – the next section was 16km. I’d been drinking a litre between aid stations and despite it now being night, the humidity, length of the next section and the imminent climb meant I should be wise and prepared. I had noticed that despite all the fluids I was still not fully hydrated though after all this time and it did bother me a little and was on my mind.

Stocked up I set off to make the climb. Maybe a little over 500m lay ahead. This didn’t phase me and I was ready for a good walk. I’d also picked up my poles at the 100km mark ready for a lot of walking. After bringing them all this way I at least needed to make some use of them. So out they came. And off to the Blue Lake I marched.

It was a lonely old climb. I thought I’d see groups of people encouraged by their pacers storming past me but it never happened. What did surprise me though was that on the climb I began overtaking some 100km runners. I didn’t think I’d catch the ck end of this event. They were in high spirits though and with each one I passed we congratulated each other’s efforts and called bullshit to the climb and pains. As I broke the back of the climb the descent began. It was runnable. Single track easy underfoot. I ran on. After a few km though the ran became a hobble. Whilst I’d been blocking out the pains in my legs (particularly my ankle/shin pain and my destroyed quads) I couldn’t block out the pain in my left foot. The sole was raw. A blister for sure on the padding. Pressure was rather uncomfortable but there was no choice but to keep moving forward. The slow progress then began to make me tired and I was wobbling a little for sure.

Before the Blue Lake there was another section. Coming out of the long trails from Oktania we reached the aid station at Millar road. A smallish aid station but one busy with volunteers. I asked for warm food but there was none. They did have coffee though. I needed it. The long walk had made me sleepy. I needed a kick. I sat down with more jam sandwiches, a cheese scone and some ‘chippies’ whilst I drank the coffee. I noticed runners coming in and either layering up or being wrapped in blankets as they sat. Mmhhh. I realised it was cold. I took my arm warmers back out. It wasn’t cold by UK standards but I was beginning to shake a little.

As I left Millar road I walked with another guy. We talked a bit but I forgot his name. I was spaced out now. I overheard a volunteer tell another runner about long sections of road and another 1.5km of technical forest tracks. As we walked the first part of the road the pain was too much for me to fully engage in conversation. I also kept needing to pee. So I’d dropped back from the runner before we reached the technical part. In the bush it was so dark. The paths were windy with twists and turns. I kept having to stop and look which way I was going. My head torch died and I needed to change the battery to see (thankfully it died in a small clearing in the bush and the moonlight was enough to see in my bag for the spare). The bush was spectacular in the dark. But I was getting sleepy. So very sleepy.

Eventually we left the forest behind and emerged onto a road. Back at Blue Lake. To my right was the aid station, lit up a few hundred meters away. To my left, arrows and cones marking the path. Ah. Shit, I forgot we had to do a loop of the lake first. About 4km. We ran this as a group a few days before in the opposite direction. I at least knew what to expect. But this wouldn’t mean I’d enjoy it. 4km hobbling took a long long time.

I rocked up 2 hours later than estimated at the Blue Lake aid station and I only had one thing on my mind… “is there a medic or someone who can treat a blister for me?”. Thankfully there was. A running coach went to work and gasped when my sock came off. “We need to drain that one!” Much to the shock of the volunteers who’d gathered round. It was probably about the size of a watch face on the padding of my sole. I drank more coffee whilst she went to work and then taped it up to relieve the pressure. Immediately I felt better and that I could hobble a little faster at least. I thanked them and set off on my way. As I left the aid station Jorge, Kirsty and Andy were there to cheer me on. I find this level of support and friendship incredible – after running all day, 100km for 14-18 hours with minimal sleep they still put others first over their recovery needs. It’s so generous. A short chat and I was back moving. 15km to go via the Redwoods back to town…

From Blue Lake to Redwoods was a tough 9km stint. It started with some twisty gradual climbs on loose gravel paths. Any thoughts I had on running were gone again. The loose rocks ached the raw skin on my feet. As we continued we ventured back into the forest trails. This time surrounded by the huge redwoods all around. My watch kept beeping as it lost signal. The darkness was pure. Above us a super moon shining bright in the sky. Towards the end of the section we climbed again. I passed more runners from the 100km and a few milers on the climb too. Each one questioning when it would end. Each one with a different understanding of how long the final section through town would be, it ranged from 2km to 9km. Naturally I hoped for the former! As we levelled out the town lights were visible in the distance. Like all ultras though I questioned how far further this last stretch would be and when we’d descend to town level and how/where we we going. It looked so far. What goes up must come down though and soon we did. Rapidly. Steps. Heaps of them. Deep earth packed Steps with un-level wooden breakers. I limped down them all eventually reaching a road and volunteers each egging me on the final few hundred m. I arrived at the Redwoods aid station to be treated by a Mexican day of the dead party. The sun beginning to rise and two familiar faces – Paul, the founder of the Tarawera race (who welcomed us at the Powhiri) and a gentleman I’d seen many times throughout the day supporting his wife. He chatted to me each time. He’s had just 5 hours sleep in the last two days and looked exhausted now. I assured him his wife Billie was just behind me. They pushed me on for the last stretch with encouragement. It was close to 7km to go. Damn. I wanted more coffee but there wasn’t any. I was no reliant on the rising sun to bring some life back into me and keep the eyes open as I left the aid station

Into finish now. 7km. 2 hours. It was happening for sure. Even if I slowed down further the sub 30 ‘Western States’ qualifier would be achieved. I believed more than ever before. A few runners ran past me. They clearly believed too. We followed some park paths for a little while before hitting the geothermal valley area. Woah. Besides being hit in the face with the heat and sulphur smell, it was beautiful. Natural rocky landscape steaming from vents. I expected to run through the main streets of town. Long straight blocks of buildings. Nope. We’d loop through parks and wooden walkways surrounding the thermal areas all the way to the lake. It made it far more manageable. I plodded on. Billie and her husband ran past. It was about 7am. The sun was shinning. I reached the last sign saying 200 m to the finish. There were a group of people standing and clapping. I stopped to talk. We joked about running the last bit. The only bit that matters. A few moments later I started again. The plod became faster. I was shuffling now. The crowd gathered at the finish line began to cheer. The MC announced me as I entered the finishers area. I shuffled over the line with a beaming smile. I didn’t know what to do and the first words that came out to a volunteer were “where do I sit down?” I was so spaced out. Exhausted. A lady came over and apologetically encouraged me to come and get my gift, the Pounamu. Yes!!! A table was laid out. There were loads of Pounamu in boxes on display like a jewellery shop. They were massive. Far bigger than I expected. Each one different. Different colours. Different shades. She explained the purpose, the shape and meaning and significance of the ‘Toki’ design. She explained that we were to choose our own. It was personal. It took me a while but with a little help I found my Pounamu. The dark green jade called to me. She put it round my neck. I asked her to get a finish line photo. A videographer took pictures and filmed and asked if he could have a few words. Before she left the lady asked me if I wanted a hug, “fucking right I do” and at that moment I felt the sense of achievement and closure from the race. As the videographer asked me questions I realised how spaced I was. I’ve no idea what I answered. I was led in to the recovery zone to be weighed – we were weighed at check in and on finishing to check we were medically ok. They advised they were looking for a weight loss/gain within a 4kg tolerance to ensure we hadn’t taken in too much or too little liquid. I’d lost about 1.5kg. Perfect he said, go get some food and relax in the recovery area. As I went in I saw Femi from the boat ride some 14 hours earlier?! Then Jorge, Andy and Arlene arrived. They’d seen me finish as they were parking. They helped feed me and get me home. They updated me on everyone else’s races and achievements.

100758-d0c4d1-1006575117 — Crossing that finish line as a 100 mile finisher!

Final thoughts

Milers are hard. It’s a long ass way
I once again broke it into thirds. The first 50km was a breeze. The middle dragged on and on and the final was a slog. The realisation at 80km that it was only half way was horrible.
The generosity of friends. Tracking and following, supporting. Its incredible at the best of times. Its another level of generosity when they do it after running 100km themselves!
The sheer size of operation – around 690 volunteers and 150 permanent staff. 200 kms of trails across private land, public land, Government land and tribal land. There is a huge amount of organisation to such a successful event.
The generosity of the event. There was something very psecial in the Powhiri welcome. I’ve never experienced that before. Also starting in a cultural site and the Haka at the start. Incredible. The amount we got out of it too with entrance to cultural/heritage sites such as Te Puia and the Brried Village, the race swag, the support throughout the race and the huge pounamu. The expensive race entry was fully justified this time!
It takes a lot of coffee for me to get going when I’m tired.
The morning is a very special time when running. The light from the sun is powering and what goes before it is soon forgotten when the day breaks.
Rotorua is special. It has so much. Tens of lakes. Woods and forests such as the Redwoods. Mount Tarawera and the geothermal valley. Any one of those alone would make it special, Rotorua has them all!
The pounamu. A medal I’ll wear for sure.
I’m a miler man now.