Motatapu Off Road Marathon

It was not without some trepidation that I returned to New Zealand this year. I had been invited back to take part in the 2019 Motatapu Off Road Marathon as unfortunately my race had finished after about 8.5miles the previous year.

At the end of my run last year

Just a bit of background : whilst competing in the 2018 event, I had rounded a corner in the track and came across a man lying on the path. He was part of the associated mountain bike event and had just collapsed before I arrived. Unfortunately, after 30minutes of CPR, there was still no response, and so his partner (Delwyn) came and sat with him to hold his hand as we agreed to stop. When a helicopter finally arrived, I sent Delwyn away on it to find their daughter Lisa at the finish line whilst I stayed with John until we could also be picked up and taken to the hospital in Queenstown.
 



The land is usually "private"

Delwyn and Lisa (wearing
her dad's jersey)

On to this year : the event is run along a beautiful valley from Wanaka up and over to Arrowtown, climbing about 1055m over the course of the event (steadily up to the highest point at 27km and then "mostly" downhill to the finish). The land is private, but a condition of it being owned by an overseas investor (Shania Twain) is that it is opened up to public access for one weekend every year. Prior to this year, the "Motatapu Event" had consisted of a mountainbike race, running races and a triathlon all on the same day, but this year the biking, the ultra and the triathlon were on the Saturday, whilst the 8.5K, the 15K and the marathon were on the Sunday. I arrived into Queenstown a couple of days before the event and met up with Delwyn and Lisa and John's other children. They were all going to cycle as a group on the Saturday with Lisa ensuring her dad's jersey and bike made it over the finish line this year. I went to meet them when they finished and it was a truly emotional event as a group of 20 of their family and friends had all come down to take part. Lisa had only cycled about 9 times prior to the event, and I was so impressed to see her finish (on her dad's bike) with a smile on her face!!
 

Some of the course seen on the way out
by helicopter last year

When I first heard that the marathon start time had been moved forward to 7:30am, it initially sounded like a good thing, ie all over and done with by lunchtime......but I was less enamoured when getting up and making porridge at 4am. The bus to the start left Queenstown at 5am and we arrived sometime before 7. Dawn had not yet broken and it seemed rather cold to be taking off my jacket and putting it in my finish line bag - however, the positive side of having to carry a thermal top and a waterproof jacket as compulsory kit was that I could actually wear them when milling around in the half-light. It did seem rather weird to be standing around in a field by some schoolbuses with music coming from a loudspeaker...and I found out later that a few lovely sandflies were sharing the field with us.
 

The day gradually got lighter
and the scenery more beautiful

There was not much company out there...

There was no kit check of the compulsory kit so it appeared that some people had interpreted what they "must carry" rather loosely (including those who went on to finish right at the sharp end of the field), but we were all instructed to walk to the start. This was a variation on the previous year, when we'd started up the main dirt road, as we had to climb up a couple of hills to the gantry. We were warned to take care on the first section and then set off.....I can see why we were warned as the first kilometre involved a very faint trail, some grass, some rough ground, and an incredibly steep downhill section with loose stones that had several people going flying. My lack of descending skills meant I started slowly and cautiously but then had to work my way past lots of people as we headed (back down the valley!!) to join the dirt road.

At least I had time to look round
at the the views

I seemed to be midpack as I started up the road but I didn't think I recognised it from last year - though the reason for this became clear as the track we were on suddenly joined the main valley road a bit further up from last year's start. I felt like I was really laboured in my breathing and effort compared to my memory of last year's run, but I guess we always remember things with rose-tinted spectacles, as I was constantly reeling people in until I was running alone. 

The first checkpoint came into view down in the bottom of the valley about the same time as I caught up to man I'd spied on the trail ahead of me. He drew my attention to a bright dot off in the distance and told me that it was a Salomon professional runner and that I should try to catch her...I smiled and nodded but privately thought "not a chance!". At the checkpoint I grabbed a handful of jelly rockets (mmmm....sweeties) and carried straight on. I came to really appreciate those rockets in the later stages of the run, as they were the only nutrition I took in.

Lisa leaving flowers and a beer for John

I did remember the track becoming much rougher and rockier after this aid station, but I actually preferred the challenge of those bits, as it made it far more interesting (and I guess you were going slower so had more time to look at the views). Suddenly I rounded a corner and recognised the spot where I had spent such a long time last year - I saw the flowers that Lisa and Delwyn had left and raised a thought for John. A lady with a minuscule pack shot past me like I was standing still, but we managed to exchange a few words about the solitude of the event. She went on to with the race convincingly and I later found out that she was a professional triathlete/ironwoman.

 

Many streams/muddy patches were
hidden until you were right on them

I quite the fact that I was running along completely on my own, as it meant that I could enjoy looking round at the scenery, but catching glimpses of the ladies ahead of me did occasionally pull me back to the reality that I was meant to be "racing" rather than just pootling along looking at the hills. The lead switched over at a point hidden from my view, but I could just about make them out on other parts of the trail. It was quite deceiving as you would appear to close a gap only to have it open up again. This was due to the nature of the trail - although we were still climbing, there were hidden undulations with rivers to ford and some muddy bottoms which completely interrupted your stride and pace. It felt as if I'd no sooner worked the water out of my shoes than I'd be back wading in a creek and come out the other side with sodden heavy feet again.

One of many soakings

 

"Girlie arms" helped
in the water

At both aid stations 2 and 3 I paused to down a couple of cups of water but then carried straight on (note to self...I should have been looking after myself better and taking on more nutrition). I was quite surprised to find that I was still running, as I thought my fitness was such that I would have had to drop to a walk before then, but then again, I now realise that I should have made a concerted effort top run a bit less and look after myself more in order to conserve energy. It felt really hard work going up and down and up and down, sometimes on rocky trail and sometimes on beaten down grass.....to the point that I felt like I was moving through treacle at times....but it must have been the same for everyone, as the Salomon figure ahead of me did not get any further away.

I did kinda enjoy the rivers!

The highest point of the course was after the third aid station (I'm not sure I was that enamoured with the aid station volunteer telling me "just another 1.5K to the highest point) but it was rather a non-event. It wasn't a spectacular summit, nor even a lofty pass with a great view, just a turn in the trail with a cardboard sign marking the place. Still, at least I caught and passed a man here, so it had a slight significance for me.

 

The "downhill" started gently...with
more hidden creeks

The downhill started off rather gently....on more of the rough grass trail but then became steeper and steeper. This, added to the twists and turns, meant that I could no longer see the lady in front of me. I was still "running" but I was rather worried about my leg as the descent got steeper - I could feel that I wasn't exactly running evenly, but my legs were also rather tired in general. I also realised that my lack of self-care during the event meant that I was seriously low on energy, so by the time I came to the last aid station I knew I needed to use my head not my heart. I had a couple of cups of water and tried to eat, but from then on, whenever I tried to put any effort in I felt like I was going to be sick.

It was so beautiful when the
river filled the width of thevalley

The deeper the water, the
higher it seemed to splash up 

After so long on my own, I now started to see other runners....but unfortunately they were men running past me as I trudged up the final hot sunny inclines. A lovely man encouraged me to keep going and hold my position in the ladies' field as I "only" had 6km to go, and so I recommenced running, but to no avail. I wanted to make the finish and it was meant to be fun, so I did not want to destroy myself for a position so I went back to my run/walk. I had 4km to go by the time the next guy passed and he told me that the lady behind was closing in. I've never felt that competitive with others in a race...if they pass me, I think "Good on them!" as I'm doing as much as I can "for me".

 

On yet another steep rough descent I heard music getting louder and louder behind me - it was the next lady finally catching me up. I felt that I'd been alone in such a beautiful area for so long that when she caught me with 3km to go, I couldn't wait for her to get away so that I had peace and quiet again .... each to their own, as I know some people feel they need music to help them run, but I didn't want to listen to someone else's music in such an amazing wilderness area.

 



My feet got so cold, I could
hardly feel the ground,
so balance became an issue

Yippee....the final creek crossing
was a short shallow splash!

All of a sudden I hit the river....and when I say river, I'm not really exaggerating (well maybe just a little bit). It was well over my knees and shockingly cold as I waded across it. To be fair, the coldness was quite good as I poured a few handfuls over my head and face and felt wonderfully refreshed. That novelty soon wore off as I think 75% of the next 2km stretch was spent wading from one side of the river to the other...and then back again...while in some sections we were told by marshals to just wade "downstream to that rock, then turn and cross back again". Some sections were thigh-deep so I wondered how the mountainbikers had managed the days before. I guess that they didn't have my two issues that developed on the small sections of rocky path beside the water - my wet shorts didn't half chafe....and my feet were so cold from the water that I had no sensation of the ground or rocks I was trying to run on.



In the finish funnel

I made it - only a
year from start to finish!

The shorter runs (8.5K and 15K) joined our route, and it was lovely to have some encouragement from them as I started to recognise the final stretch from watching the cyclists the day before. A final two stretches of water and I was winding my way through the woods towards the line (though the woods seemed to have also stretched out further than they had the day before). A cheeky incline into the finish field and I could see the gantry, hear the cheers and see my (almost) cousin Anne waiting for me on the line. Delwyn and Lisa were also there cheering me in and when they came and hugged me, it made it all seem worthwhile. It may not have been my finest hour or my finest race, but I'd achieved what I'd set out to do, and crossed the line thinking of John and his family and how we should all just live in the moment as you never know what life holds for you!

Fighting Freya

Maybe the 10 mile took a lot more out of me than races used to do....or maybe it's the added stress of work and travel (I've been doing 50 hour weeks recently) on my "delicate" endocrine system, but I was floored this week. By the time I got home on Wednesday, I could hardly bring myself to climb the stairs in my house.

I'd like to say that I listened to my body and rested, but I could hardly do anything else. All I felt capable of doing on Thursday and Friday was going to work, eating, and sitting watching tv/playing on the Internet (though I did do a token 30minutes if leaf clearing in the garden for some fresh air).

With the Galloway Harriers

On Saturday morning, I felt a lot more human, and as the day seemed bright and sunny I decided to drive over and support everyone running the Stranraer half marathon. As I've been working on Stranraer for most of the last 6 weeks, I knew several people running it, and I've been to the odd Tuesday night run with the local Galloway Harriers, a few of whom were targetting the race.

By the time I got to Stranraer, the weather had completely changed.....Storm Freya was approaching, and so the wind had picked up and the sky turned heavy and grey.....not ideal for standing around watching. I decided I would run instead of hanging around getting cold and so although the only shorts I had in my car were loose flappy ones, I found myself pinning a number onto a vest and tying a chip onto my shoe.

Working my way through the midpack
as we left the school

Having committed to it, I then started to question my decision as the temperature dropped and it started to spit with rain. It was nice to chat to so many familiar faces as we gathered on the track but, although we all had chips on our shoes, there was not a start timing mat, or even an audible countdown. I was talking to the girl next to me when we suddenly noticed that the race had started, so it was actually an accidental mid-field start.

Through the "scheme"

There were people of all speeds and abilities (the associated 4 mile race started with us) ahead of me, but just meant that I could spend the first half mile meandering round people, as the route took us round a section my housing scheme. The next mile and a half were through the town centre (not on closed roads so the police and marshals helped out with the traffic) so I did get a shout out of "Go on, Dr Jo". 

It turned out that Dumfries Running Club were also using the race as part of their Grand Prix so I had familiar vests ahead of me, and I managed to catch up to and chat to one of the DRC guys (Kevin) as we left the town and heading out onto country roads via the Industrial Estate. The route was already starting to become rather "undulating" so having puffed and panted my way past the 3 mile markers, I was very tempted to just follow the 4 mile course back to the school. I gave myself a little mental shake and crossed the road instead (taking care to look for cars) to head off uphill on the half marathon course. 

Moving away from Kev and Euan
(though it doesn't look uphill for some reason)

At this point I moved away from Kevin and a young Galloway Harrier who was running his first half marathon and had set off like a bat out of hell, and into a lonely space. I could see a man I recognised from the local running circuit (Ian) up ahead of me......and that was where he stayed, coming in and out of sight as we wound round corners, up hill and down dale (well, it was all on road but some were very rural....ie covered in mud from tractor wheels). The wind had really picked up and some of the gusts made me almost stop in my tracks (others said afterwards that they when they looked at their watches, they couldn't understand why they were working so hard compared to the pace they were actually running).

Not a flat course then....

I wanted to get beyond the 7 mile mark before giving into to that urge to slow to a jog, just so that I could say I'd made progress from the previous weekend, but the wind did rather make my pace rather random. It was also raining much more heavily (flappy shorts were definitely no longer flapping).....and, depending on the wind direction, the rain (which bordered on hail) was rather painful. I would sometimes think that Ian was stretching away from me, but then the gap would close back up to how it was, and I used this to make myself keep moving (yes, I was finding it very tough, but clearly he was as well).

I nearly kissed the marshal standing at a junction not long after the 9 mile mark, not because he told me that I was actually doing well overall, but because he told me that we had to turn back towards town and that it would now be a tail wind all the way. He wasn't telling complete porky pies, as the next mile and a half were more sheltered (I'm not saying that I ran faster with the the tailwind, but just that I slowed less that I might have done). Ian told me that I motored past him, but actually I think he just slowed briefly to take on a gel. This meant that I was ahead when we suddenly ran round a 180degree bend and back into the full force of the wind. 

Looking soggy at the finish

A short sharp climb and turn (another 180) and we were running down the side of the main road into town past the 11 mile marker. We then had to wind around the industrial estate back to rejoin the 4mile course and it was at this point that I felt like I'd lost the will to live. Ian came past me again on the "little inclines" and tried to encourage me, but I told him I "was done". He was having none of it and tried to keep encouraging me. I managed to stay within touching distance of him for the next mile but as we hit the edge of town he could smell the finish. I had nothing left and so the gap opened. The police ushered us across the main road separately but luckily I didn't need much concentration to see the way into the school  carpark and onto the track. 

Some nice spoils...

Having revived!

Ian was away near the finish as I hit the track but I tried to muster up a tiny bit of effort to make the line. (I think) I managed a soggy smile and wave to friends but it wasn't really the weather to hang around though I did grab some waterproofs out of my car and jog back to encourage a couple of friends in. Hot showers, chocolate Freddos and coffee revived us all, and although I had thought about pulling out several times, I was glad I'd manage to complete the distance without disgracing myself (yes, I know it's only me that cares!) but more than that, I had another lovely weekend catching up with friends.