So I went for a little run and . . . 13 hours and 40 minutes later I had run 100 km (62 miles)

I don't mean to distract from Molly's postings about her parents' visit, but I also wanted to share what is going on currently. I am confident that our readers (sounds funny to have "readers") are more than intelligent enough to mix past and current events.



Molly had to work all weekend so I thought I would run and "ultra" marathon, the Tarawera Ultramarathon. An ultramarathon is anything over the conventional marathon distance of 26.2 miles. My eventual goal is to run the Leadville 100 miles in August of 2011 and I have been training for several months, beyond training for the marathon. Training involves doing back-to-back long days of anywhere from 15 to 30 miles.

I had seen this trailrunning race posted on the internet in Rotorua where you run through the redwods and complete most of the event on trails so I thought that I would give it a go. I signed up for the 80 km (51 miles) and dutifully prepared my "drop" bags where you put gear into a bag that you may want to access down the road at upcoming aid stations (fresh socks, sunscreen, headlamp, etc.). They had plenty of aid stations every 7-10 miles where they offered cookies, crackers, candy, gel, soft drinks, water, pretzels, sandwiches, and anything else to get your taste buds rolling. If you weren't running the whole time, I am sure that you could put on weight. Some of the racers were running the distance in a relay, some were running 60 km, 80 km, or 100 km.

We began at 7:00 AM before sunrise in a group of several hundred. Since the race is so long, there is no reason to "warm up," so a lot of the tension of other races was not there. The dirty little secret about ultramarathons is that they actually involve a lot of walking. The general rule is that you walk up any hill you cannot see the top of. The first section was very hilly so there was a lot of walking for the first 2 hours. The trail wound through forests that had both been planted and natural ones. There were many lakes and people doing lake things like water skiing and fishing. All the while we ran, and ran, and ran. At the first aid station I drank 3 cups of energy drink, grabbed 4 Fig Newtons, and some other bar as well as a pb sandwich. I filled my water bottle and was on my way. The racers were really nice and you continued to pass the same 10-15 people over a period of hours. I chatted with many of them and found out that this was also the first ultra of most. The aid stations came and went in a blur of sun, sweat, running/walking, GU, water, chapstick, and endless green forest. At the 50 km mark I proclaimed to some of the other racers that the race had finally begun, the suffering was not far behind.

At the 60 km transition stop I had a drop bag with fresh socks and my head lamp and a few other things. I had taken my socks and shoes off to let them air out while I ate something. One nice elderly lady congratulated me on finishing and I replied, "No, I have just begun to fight." It was around 3:00 PM and I gathered my headlamp for an anticipated nighttime finish. I am not sure when, but at some point I decided that I would do the 100 km, even though I had never even done and 80 km. In fact, the farthest I had ever traveled in one day, hiking mind you, was 37 miles, so 62 miles seemed like a long way but when everyone else is running that distance and you have the nice volunteers at each aid station cheering you on, you just can't help but keep going.

At the 70 km mark I didn't feel like eating much anymore but there were some jelly beans that looked good. I put a handful in a cup and carried on with it enjoying each jelly bean as if I was 8 again. With all that jelly bean sugar in me I marched ahead and enjoyed a nice conversation with a mountain biker who was a volunteer to check on the runners. We chatted about various races for a good 10 minutes and then he carried on. I began to feel a pain in my gut that grew and grew. I went from running to shuffling to walking to walking slowly to wanting to sit down but convincing myself that the pain would go away. The jelly beans were having their revenge. I spent the next 45 minutes to an hour barely walking along and reminding myself that it would pass, hopefully. Two guys passed me but other than that the scene and the pain remained unchanged. Finally, I reached the next aid station and had some water, a banana, and sat down. I felt a lot better and carried on - up this steep hill that the race director had cruelly placed between the 82-85 km mark. Somehow it didn't bother me that much and when the trail flattened out I found myself running with a nice guy from Auckland. We were now running on relatively flat forest roads and the sun was beginning to set. We traded leads until finally coming to the last aid station- 5 km from the finish! I had a handful of the best chips (chicken flavored- for some reason that I common in NZ) and a swig of Mountain Dew. The other guy drank a whole cup and we set off. Surprisingly we ran fast and I thought that the end would arrive in no time. We were both feeling the caffeine and adrenaline of the last few miles. However, it was not to last. I heard a belch, and then he was puking up Mountain Dew as I carried on in the dark. I didn't see anyone during the remaining miles but stumbled along the trail running along the river illuminated slightly by my headlamp which was in desperate need of new batteries. I told myself that it would only be a few more minutes but it felt like hours. Finally, I began to see a few houses in the distance and the small town of Kawerau.

With little fanfare I crossed the line after 13 hours and 40 minutes of running/shuffling/walking. I believe that I sat for less than 5 minutes the whole time. I collapsed onto a chair and put my head in my hands. As most ultrarunners say, the race had broken me, but in a good way. Although it is cheesy, it made me realize that I could do so much more than I ever though possible. With that, I grabbed a sausage (all NZ races have sausages at the end for some reason) and a beer and headed to the free community hot pools. After a nice soak, I caught the bus back to Rotorua and enjoyed the best fish and chips that I have ever had.

Sorry no photos- there was no one there to take any.