The Tarawera Ultra Marathon took place on February 7th, during New Zealand’s Waitangi Day long weekend starting in the town of Rotorua, New Zealand’s adventure capital, and ending in the sawmill town of Kawerau. The race weekend began with an authentic cultural experience at the Te Puia Centre where Maori cultural dancers performed a traditional powhiri welcome ceremony, which included the iconic haka. The start of the weekend was especially moving as it coincided with the Waitangi Day celebrations. We were also treated to the magnificent sight of the world famous Pohutu Geyser. Essentially a perfect start to what was to be an absolute Eat.Run.See highlight.

The welcome ceremony about to begin (photo credit: Marceau Photography)

Maori warrior runs to greet/challenge representative of runners’ tribe (photo credit: Marceau Photography)

Traditional dancers performing during the welcome ceremony at Te Puia

The Pohutu Geyser

Upon reflecting on this weekend one word comes to mind more than any other. It’s not very eloquent, and it’s not very informative, but somehow it captures things rather well. And that word is a straightforward “Wow!”

A number of things came together to make our Tarawera experience so memorable. And the race itself, perhaps, isn’t even the most important element in all of that.

But since this is going to be essentially a race report I will only just mention the non-race aspects that turned this event into one of lasting significance for us both.

As part of our North Island exploration we used couchsurfing.com to secure accommodation for one night in Wellington. Amazingly, it turned out that the wonderful couple, Scott and Adrienne, whom we connected with, were also running the Tarawera Ultra 100KM! We had a great evening staying with them in their lovely home in Wellington, where they shared with us their experience and a number of insider tips gleaned from their previous Tarawera runs. But it doesn’t stop there. Scott and Adrienne also invited us to stay with them in the spare room of the holiday home that they had already rented for race weekend. Suddenly our big race weekend, which we’d been planning for many months, turned into an epic weekend spent with new friends, that happened to include a race. Thanks again to Scott and Adrienne (who both ran amazing 100KM races) for their amazing Kiwi generosity and hospitality!

OK, this is supposed to be a race report, right? Let’s start at the beginning. Of course, I’m not quite sure where the beginning of any of these races truly is. Is it when you decide to enter, and start vaguely training for a long run many months in the future, is it the night before the race when you fail miserably at trying to get a good night’s sleep, or is it when the starting signal goes off?

Let’s just say that we were nervously confident – even though our training during the month we spent in India (two months before the race) was rather lackluster due to logistical troubles (it turns out it’s not that easy to run in India…), our training in New Zealand during the month prior to Tarawera went really well. Additionally we felt buoyed by a great 60KM training run on the famous and beautiful Kepler Track near gorgeous Te Anau on the South Island.

Race morning dawned (well that’s just an expression, since we got up at 4am, well before any hint of “dawn”) and we made our way to the start at the entrance to the magnificent Redwoods area in Rotorua. One of the huge advantages of staying with Scott and Adrienne during race weekend was the help we got from their support crew, Adrienne’s sister, Danielle. Danielle drove the four of us to the start area and we enjoyed one of our most relaxing and stress free race starts in a long while!

While waiting for the big run to get underway we were treated to another spectacular, goose-bump inducing haka performance by the Te Puia performers. It set the scene for an awesome day filled with emotion, grit and perseverance.

It was still dark when the race started, and the train of headlamps through the majestic Redwood forest looked an equal mixture of eerie and spectacular.

Here we go…nobody here is nervous or stressed out, right?

Bev and I quickly settled into an easy, comfortable rhythm and before we knew it we felt relaxed and confident. Although at Comrades (89km on the road) we’d come close, neither of us had run 100km before and we decided to take it really easy to begin with and just see what happened.

About 8km in, Bev has her relaxed, game face on early

The first few kilometers passed uneventfully enough, listening to the nervous and excited chatter of those around us, and quietly hoping that we’d last all the way to the finish.

Blue Lake, just one of the gorgeous lakes along the course

Making it look easy

It’s not over yet, is it?

For me, this confidence started fading fairly soon afterwards. By the time we’d reached the Millar Road aid station at around the 20km mark my quads started feeling unreasonably fatigued, and with another 80km to go, it didn’t exactly fill me with joy. Before the run Bev and I agreed that for a longish day, as this one was expected to be, we would try to eat actual solid food from early on at the aid stations. The first thing I saw on offer at the aid station was a lily-white bread sandwich with about a half inch of Marmite – not exactly the kind of thing we usually eat. Nevertheless, I didn’t feel all that great and figured it looked appetizing enough, and so I went for it. I also wolfed down two more sandwiches with heaps of boysenberry jam.

We spent about 10 minutes at the aid station eating, and filling our water bottles, before we set off again, and I was amazed at how strong I felt – significantly better than when we arrived. (From now on, I will be eating lots of Marmite on long runs!). The 17km to the next aid station at Okataina Lodge felt really easy and we were running well and utterly enjoying the great spirit and camaraderie amongst the runners on the trail.

Upon arriving at the aid station I immediately got down to eating more Marmite and jam sandwiches, gulped down a few glasses of Heed, and filled up water bottles before tackling the next 10km section to Humphries Bay.

This next section of the run included what would become another major highlight of our New Zealand adventure as a fellow runner tucked in behind me and Bev and followed along as we made our way along a gorgeous and runnable section of the course. The runner, who is a wonderful Kiwi lady, called Tui, chatted away and provided non-stop commentary, entertaining me and Bev (I didn’t hear that much of her chatter though, since I had my music on and was totally in the zone, pushing as hard as I thought was prudent with another 60+ kilometers to go (yes, it is mentally tough to think of having 60km to go after already having run 40km!). But more important than Tui’s commentary, was the fact that she and Bev connected on a personal level and before we knew it Tui had invited us to stay with her and her family for a few days. We took her up on her offer a few days later and had a great time getting to know her husband and their two wonderful kids.

Richard, in the zone, just lovin’ it :)

From Okataina (37km) to Tarawera Falls (60km) is advertised as the toughest section of the course, and we’d have to wholeheartedly agree. This 23km section took us over 4 hours, including some time spent in the two aid stations along the way. It’s all single-track with a some ups and downs thrown in.

Built-in support crew for both of us :)

It’s probably the most beautiful section too though, which is a good thing, since this helped keep us going. Getting to the 60km mark was also a major boost, since we knew that the last 40km were relatively easy running, mostly on forest service roads. Because of this we had our road shoes waiting for us in our drop bags at the Tarawera Falls aid station, and we were looking forward to throwing on slightly lighter and more comfortable shoes. Unfortunately the Tarawera Falls aid station also represented the one negative we experienced on the day. We had originally signed up for the 60km race, but changed our distance to the 100km the day before during registration, following the posted procedure to do so. We had placed our drop bags in the correct trailer for the 60km aid station for 100km runners. However, upon reaching the 60km aid station (which also serves as the 60km finish) we couldn’t locate our drop bags in the 100km race area, and were finally told to check the 60km finish bag location, which was about 500 meters away from the 100km drop bag location! After changing shoes and restocking our fuel we asked if volunteers could take our bags the 500 meters back to the 100km drop bag location (to ensure they were delivered to the finish area), and we were met with an indifferent shrug, indicating that it would be too much trouble for them to do that and we would have to do it ourselves. It is amazing how much an extra kilometer hurts when you have to complete 100 of them! This little annoyance was soon forgotten as we got on with the task of tackling the last 40km.

The final 40km were advertised as easy, non technical forestry roads with little elevation gain, and a few easy gradual downhills, and with our feet now in lighter, more cushy environs in our road shoes we felt quite buoyed. For me, this section was the most emotional. Soon we started feeling like we were going to make it, and upon reaching the Titoki aid station with only 30km to go it struck me as rather amazing how one can see 30km as just a short hop to the finish.

On long endurance events one feels a range of emotions which typically include nervousness, excitement, loneliness, friendship, self loathing, and love. This day did not disappoint, I felt all of these in spades. I always go back to the loss of our Archer, and more recently, it also includes the loss of my one of a kind mom who passed away late in 2013. My dad texted me good luck wishes the day before which included encouraging and proud messages from my brothers as well. Thinking about my family and feeling their support always gives me strength and a sense of belonging which can sometimes be lost out there in the late hours of a long run.

One of the aspects I like most of long runs is how it forces you to look deep inside, to see what’s there and to found out if, whatever it is, is strong enough to get you to the finish line. Bev and I have an advantage here; we help each other, we encourage each other, we remind each other to eat and drink, or to slow down or pick it up. It also adds a bit to my occasional self loathing though, when I sometimes irrationally blame myself for putting her through the tribulations of a 16 hour long run, as if it’s somehow my fault that she decided to run a 100km trail race.

Running the final 15km in the dark with only our headlamps illuminating a cone of the darkness ahead, and only our footsteps and breathing piercing the silence, added meaningfully to the surreality of closing in on the finish of a 100km long run through some of the magnificent forests of New Zealand.

Finding the last turn towards to finish arch in Firmin field, in the town of Kawerau was almost magical. Seeing the finish line, hearing our names being called out as we crossed that line was amazing. But what was truly special, was the fact that our new friends Scott and Adrienne were there waiting for us, with hugs ready, after completing their own 100km runs much earlier than we did.

Finished!

For us, Tarawera Ultra Marathon 2015 will always be about friendship, perseverance, and achievement, but mostly about friendship, thanks to especially Scott, Adrienne, and Tui, but also thanks to the organizers and the rest of the participants who created a real feeling of family out there on a tough, but utterly well lived day!

Scott and us before the start

Amazingly, already just over three weeks have passed since running the fun and beautiful Valamar Trail 53K race on the Istrian peninsula in Croatia.

The Valamar Trail, this year in it’s first edition, did an outstanding job of organizing a fantastic day out on the trails of this very beautiful part of our planet. The day’s events comprised 4 different race distances, there was a 13K, 21K, 53K and a 73K, so there’s an opportunity for everybody to participate – beginning trail runners all the way through to experienced ultra runners.

The race’s main sponsor, in fact the race’s organizing body, is the Valamar Group of Resorts - a major resort group in Croatia. They offered an amazing deal, which pretty much sealed our decision to participate. Half board accommodation (bed, breakfast, and dinner) in a gorgeous 3-star sea-view hotel was being offered to race participants at only €19 per person per night. Additionally, if you stayed 5 nights the race’s entry fee would also be waived. It was perfect for a couple of round-the-world backpackers!

The race took place near a beachside resort town called Rabac. We arrived from Split a few days before the race and knew we had made a solid decision to enter the race as soon as we checked into our hotel (the Valamar Miramar Hotel). It was awesome. A gorgeous pool, super comfortable room, and pretty amazing food, which included soy milk on the breakfast buffet, left us in no doubt that a fun few days were on tap.

Race check-in (and mandatory gear check) happened in a neighboring (Valamar) hotel, 5 minutes walk from our hotel, and went very smoothly.

We packed our race vests and were ready for a very civilized race morning the following day since the race only started at 9AM and the start location was a mere 5 minute walk away.

Race kit ready

After a very comfortable night’s sleep, a quick breakfast of cereal and multigrain toast, we made our way to the start line where we encountered a festive and lively atmosphere.

After a couple of minutes spent greeting and chit-chatting with a few friendly, fellow racers we were off. The course started with a couple of road kilometers winding us through the village of Rabac before depositing us at the beginning of the business end of this anything-up trail race.

Ready-set-go!

The first section of single track was simply awesome, we ran through dense forest (which included very sharp pine needles that drew a fair amount of blood from our lower legs), scampered the width of a rocky beach (with amazing views of the Adriatic), and before we knew it, we hit the first climb of the day.

About to hit the beach

The Adriatic

That first climb

Bev was laying it down with an absolute vengeance in the the first 15km of the day, and I thought we were in for something rather special (if I could hang on that was!). She ran technical sections with more confidence and agility than I’ve ever seen and she trucked up climbs without fear. We were passing the field, and she was getting into a good position among the women.

Bev was ripping up the single track and lovin’ it

Rich took a more peaceful approach

Unfortunately at about 20km Bev starting feeling nauseated and started carrying some pain in her lower back, and she started slowing down. At one point she felt so bad, that she contemplated something she’d never even thought of before during a race: dropping.

Of course, that is not the sort of thing Bev does, and after a short little cry brought on by frustration, pain, and heat she renewed her resolve and continued trucking along. When we finally hit the aid station at 31km she ate a few handfuls of salty potato chips, washed it down with the provided isotonic sports drink and got going again with real intent.

Bev getting her groove back at the 31km aid station

We had run hard to this point, and both of us had suffered a bit in the heat, and did a good job cursing the unbelievable rocky surface underfoot, but we were determined to put in a solid effort in last 22km of this beautiful, but tough, course.

Buoyed by the knowledge that we only had about 20km to go and that most of the day’s climbing was behind us we were on a relative high (maybe it was the salt on the chips)! But little did we know just how many rocky miles lay ahead. This part of the world is basically made out of limestone and the surface underfoot for the remainder of the course was some of the rockiest terrain either of us had ever seen. Our feet had already taken a beating to this point but the worst was yet to come. Fatigue combined with hard, uneven surfaces make for a challenging time. To make matters even worse, the terrain was so rocky that running was becoming a risky proposition, which meant that we were going to be out there for that much longer.

Rocks, rocks, everywhere you look

The final 8km was pretty much all downhill, and consisted almost exclusively of rock strewn jeep track; running on it required our full attention for fear of snapping an ankle or bruising a heel. There was an amazing view over the Adriatic as we closed in on the return to Rabac where the finish line (and a lovely cold beer and hot meal) were waiting.

Rocky jeep track

As has become our thing, we crossed the finish line hand-in-hand, while the announcer excitedly announced our arrival with  “and here come our two Canadians!”).

Another shot at the finish

Our official finish time was 7:57:00, which we thought was reasonable, but when we later discovered that Bev was only 26 minutes out of 3rd place among women overall (and only 31 minutes out of 2nd place) we were rather pleased with the time.

The Comrades Marathon is a storied and treasured event in South Africa, with a history stretching all the way back to 1921 when Vic Clapham had the idea to honor the soldiers who fell during World War I. He endured a 2,700km march through East Africa during his service and he wanted to create an event that would represent a unique test of physical endurance to honor his World War I comrades. Since the first run on May 24, 1921, 300,000 runners have lined up to start this epic race and pay tribute to Vic Clapham’s vision.

Comrades House, Pietermaritzburg

Vic Clapham, founder of the Comrades Marathon

Getting ready

The road to Comrades officially started with our running the Goodlife Fitness Victoria marathon on October 12, 2013. The Victoria Marathon was our qualifying race which would determine our seeding for the Comrades start. Seeding at Comrades is important since the race is run from gun to gun, with timing chips being used only to record that you crossed each timing point and also to record when you cross the finish line. The race also has strict cut-off points and a final, often heartbreakingly brutal, 12-hour finish cut-off, the enforcement of which is non-negotiable as an official walks onto the finish line and fires a gun at exactly 12 hours. Whoever has not crossed the line, whether one second or one hour from the line, is not considered a finisher. Starting the race with a low seeding can mean a delay of up to 10 minutes before even crossing the start line due to the large number of runners – over 14,000. In other words, running a good qualifier is a very good idea.

Unfortunately our plans to run a sub 4-hour marathon at Victoria fell apart at the 32km mark of that race when both of us had the wheels fall off as we were just not ready to run a hard 42.2km hot on the heels of our Squamish50 50 miler trail ultra in August. Our resulting seeding at Comrades put us in the second to last start corral and we lost over 7 minutes at the start.

Notwithstanding our disappointing seeding we had a good buildup leading to Comrades, running and hiking many miles in the most fantastic training locations imaginable: Peru (read about our Salkantay trek to Machu Picchu here), Patagonia (report on our 6 day trek in Torres del Paine coming soon!!), Ipanema and Copa Cabana Beaches in Rio de Janeiro, Cape Town (Table Mountain and the very impressive 56km Two Oceans Ultra Marathon). Having run just over 1,000km since January 1st, without any injuries, we both felt confident and ready.

Race day logistics

This year’s race was a down run, starting in Pietermaritzburg and finishing in Durban in South Africa’s KwaZulu-Natal province (the direction of the race alternates every year). The race headquarters are in Durban, and there are buses that shuttle runners the 90 odd km to the start in Pietermaritzburg on race morning. With a 5:30AM start, the buses leave Durban before 3AM, requiring a tough 2AM or earlier wake up call resulting in a very, very long day. We thus opted to find accommodation in Pietermaritzburg. We were very fortunate to be put in touch with a friend of a friend who very kindly and graciously hosted us the night before and also arranged a ride to the start. Thanks so much to Sanjay Harilall and his lovely wife Rochelle and their little guy Reon for taking such good care of us on the stressful night before a long run. Thanks also to our friend Hardy Maritz in Cape Town for connecting us.

At the finish we had our families cheering us home – what an amazing situation for both of us to have parents, siblings and nieces waiting at a race finish – not something that we often get to experience. It was fantastic! In addition to family waiting at the finish we also got support from Richard’s brother Andre and his family at the halfway mark and other friends near Hillcrest, 33km from the finish.

In trail ultras one gets used to running with running packs and carrying a fair amount of nutrition and water between aid stations that are typically 10 to 12km apart, but in the Comrades there are more than 45 “water tables” each with plenty of water and sports drink (Energade) available – some of them also provide real food like bananas and oranges. Knowing how tough this road run is (Richard completed the “up” run in 2011), we decided that we wanted to be as light as possible and run without any encumbrances like race packs. We chose to fuel ourselves with Gu gels (the totally awesome Salty Caramel and Peanut Butter flavors) and Perpetuem Solids (by Hammer Nutrition), which we could easily carry in our race belts. Our aim was to take in around 200 calories per hour, and drink to thirst – a tried and tested strategy, albeit, this time with new fuel (although we did run a few training runs with the new fuel). We also planned to take 3 Endurolyte capsules (also by Hammer Nutrition) per hour to to help keep our electrolyte levels healthy.

Race morning arrived after possibly the best pre-race sleep either of us have ever had. We went to bed at 8PM the night before and fell asleep right away, only waking up to our alarms at 3:20AM. We felt rested, relaxed and ready. Breakfast was an old standby: steel cut oats, with chia seeds and soy milk with a cup of coffee.

Our ride arrived at 4:39AM, cutting things a little fine for our 5:30AM start, considering the traffic and road closures around the centre of Pietermaritzburg. And sure enough there was a little bit of stress in the car about getting to the start before the “seeding pens” were to close at 5:15AM, which would mean starting right at the back of the 14,500 strong field. As it turned out we did end up getting stuck in the traffic and opted to walk the last 1km to the start, perhaps not the best way to get set for a 90km day! We both remained remarkably calm about this, since there really was absolutely nothing we could about it.

Once we got to our corral, we completed our final pre-race equipment checks, and before we knew it the traditional singing of the African song, Shosholoza, began, setting the tone for the epic day that lay ahead. Next up was Chariots of Fire and then the South African national anthem, followed closely by the traditional rooster crowing and the start gun.

The race was underway, and the excitement was palpable, but unfortunately we hadn’t started moving yet, and wouldn’t start moving for at least another 5 minutes. We finally crossed the start timing mat a full seven minutes (and another 800m farther) after the start gun – we were finally on our way! (We had thus already walked close to 2km before we even crossed the start line, when including the walk to the start area).

The first 8 to 9km was run in the dark through the city of Pietermaritzburg and the wide streets provided sufficient space for the large number of runners to move quite well. However this changed when we started approaching the outskirts of the city as the runners were squeezed onto the narrow two lane road leading up to the first of the five named hills, Polly Shortts.

Polly Shortts

The first timing mat was at 17.5km and we hit it in 2:12, a pace of 7:35min/km – on the slow side, but with the seven minute delay at the start, and the congested running, we were on the right track heading towards our goal pace of between 6:44 and 7:04min/km for a 10 hour to 10:30 finish.

Despite this year’s race designation as a “down” run into Durban, the first half of the course includes some serious uphill running. It’s not surprising then that the majority of the race’s big climbs occur in the first half and we were quite pleased to hit the half way mark in a time of 5:24 for an average pace of around 7:12min/km – our average pace was slowly approaching our goal pace and we were both feeling pretty good. At this point it felt like we were still running well within ourselves in order to have something left for the second half.

The down run elevation profile

The second half after Drummond started well, having gotten a great boost from seeing Richard’s brother, Andre, and his wife and two little girls on the side of the road. We cruised out of Drummond feeling strong and optimistic, knowing too that we would see more friends at Hillcrest in less than 10km. Running into Hillcrest requires going up and over another of the big five hills called Botha’s Hill. The course then drops viciously into Hillcrest before a small incline takes you out of town again.

Unexpectedly, Hillcrest, which Richard was looking forward to reaching all day, provided by far his worst moments of the day. We had been doing a good job of keeping up with our nutrition, alternately taking a Gu gel and three Perpetuem solids every half an hour, totaling 200 calories per hour (we did also drink the sports drink offered on the course which added more calories and more carbohydrates), but in the heat of the day, which reportedly reached 30 degrees celsius, we just couldn’t stomach the Perpetuem anymore. Richard hit a patch where puking seemed inevitable and his general disposition turned a degree or two cooler than optimal. Bev, as always, had morphed into “RaceBev” as soon the start gun went off and she was solid, steady and steaming ahead as if she was at the 5km mark and not the 56km mark.

Up to this point we had been following a 9:1 run:walk strategy, also used on our long training runs, (i.e. running for 9 minutes and then walking for 1 minute), but Bev quickly realized that Richard needed a mental boost and she very smartly suggested we drop to a 5:2 strategy. Using this approach, and finally getting a Gu Peanut Butter gel down, saw Richard battling through the Hillcrest low patch, emerging with a new lease on life, feeling (relatively) great and starting to smile as the kilometers ticked on by. The news that fellow Vancouverite, and all-around wonderful person, Ellie Greenwood, had won the women’s race provided yet another boost!

Ellie Greenwood receives her trophy

Hitting the Nedbank Green Mile at roughly 63km provided another major boost. Nedbank pulled out all the stops and provided a sensory experience second to none: there were huge puppets, singing and dancing cheerleaders, super loud music, the biggest South African flag imaginable, and before we knew it we were on Cowies Hill; the last of the named hills, and things were looking up with roughly 20km to go.

Nedbank Green Mile

Fatigue had set in though and even though we both felt great emotionally and had no tweaks or issues, we did start moving a little slower and our goal of 10 to 10:30 started slipping into 11 to 11:30 territory. All that remained now was a lot of steep downhill as we hit the N3 freeway on our way into Durban. Seeing the “Welcome to Durban” signpost provided another huge boost and the spectator quotient started rising sharply. There were people everywhere, cheering us on and providing welcome distraction with their loud cheers.

Exiting the freeway was followed by a cruel, short, but incredibly steep climb into the heart of Durban. This last climb did however provide the mental pleasure of knowing that the remaining 3km were all pancake flat. Soon after cresting this hill we saw the finish stadium for the first time and amazingly, our fatigue started to melt away.

We knew our families were waiting for us at the finish and we could now start to feel the lightness that comes with achieving a huge goal. Admittedly, we were not going to reach our 10:30 objective, or come anywhere close to it really, but finishing this run in under 11:30 was still going to be a major achievement for us.

We entered the stadium, reached for each other’s hands, as we had so many times throughout the day, and ran the final 350m holding hands; Richard grinning from ear to ear, as he was about to receive his “down run” medal to add to his “up run” one, and Bev fighting the overwhelming emotions of completing her first Comrades. Running the final 350m at Comrades is hard to describe, the crowd is huge and loud. Everybody is cheering, and the feeling of satisfied accomplishment is almost palpable – and unfortunately, the finish line finally comes too soon. Richard’s dad managed to see us coming down the final straight and got a great shot of us.

Upon crossing the line the first to see us was Bev’s dad, Scottie. Scottie, also a Comrades finisher, gave us a huge bear hug and the pride he was feeling for his daughter was undoubtedly visible all the way to the moon. Before long we were joined by my brother, sister-in-law, their two girls and my dad as well as Bev’s mom. What a wonderful way to end an epic 90km run.

Awesome post-race food at the international hospitality tent

Check out our medals

Nothing better than family at the finish!