How hard can it be? Kepler ´09

One Day & One Week Later - the Final Post

2009-12-08T22:49:00.000-08:00

In the middle of the night I'd woken - body demanding both food (cheese sandwiches) and more Panadol. I didn't exactly hurt but there was a general body-length ache going on and someone was sticking pins in my feet (as the battered nerves tried to reconnect). I closed my eyes and saw mountains and fiords and felt decidedly vertiginous.

In the morning as I lugged myself into a standing position, I teetered back and forth, unable to bend my knees, and had to ensure I kept moving for fear of cramping. Having said that, I was in a much better state than the previous day and was able to move (relatively) unaided!

At the official post-race breakfast I noticed a few people were limping, but surprisingly few, and although there were a few people moving stiffly, everyone was lively, hungry and decidedly chatty. We ended up sitting at a table with a local (Kathy) who'd just done her 21st (out of 22) Keplers and said that the track had been in the best condition she'd seen. She'd previously run it in rain, crawled across the tops in huge winds and had taken part in the year where due to the volume of snow, the course was amended to a figure 8 (Control Gates - Luxmore Hut - Control Gates - Moturau hut - Control Gates). Also on the committee, Kathy said there were very few competitors choppered out because of injury out if any (Ed's note - of the 408 competitors that started there were 9 DNFs though which were injuries v. failing to meeting the cut-off mark wasn't specified).

Prizegiving was a very funny affair. Lots of prizes for the winners (4hrs57mins - for goodness sakes, he was home in time for lunch!), much deserved recognition for the legendary Malcolm Law and his 7-in7 crew, and apologies from the man who'd spent all day yesterday on the tannoy announcing runners' arrivals. Amongst much silliness, he'd told some German trampers that they couldn't go onto the track as the week's allocation of Germans had all been used up and they'd have to wait until Tuesday. He also apologised to the other couple of trampers who'd decided in their enthusiasm to try and race one of the competitors to the finishline - over the tannoy as he called the impromtu race, he'd said that the runner looked like he'd being chased by a couple of Israelis. Naturally, both trampers were from Israel.

The event wouldn't be the same without the Te Anau inhabitants. Admittedly, the arrival of the runners and their support crews double the number of occupants in town but, with Kepler Challenge flags down the main street, every local shop was seeming to sponsor it in some way, and the two local newspapers doing comprehensive coverage, it was a huge event. And according to Ben, who'd had a busy day waiting for me to come in, Te Anau's pie shop sells the best apple pies he's ever had.

I've now spent a week recovering, and although I spent most of the day following the race hobbling around Queenstown, by day 4 I was walking so comfortably there was little physical evidence of any exertion of my part.

However mentally it's taken me about a week to actually comes to terms with having done it. The day after the event, as I sat at one of Queenstown's many pubs enjoying a couple of ciders (oh how I missed you!), I couldn't believe only 3 days prior I'd sat nearby (drinking orange juice) thinking in 3 days hence, I'd be back there having completed it.

After the initial exhaustion and euphoria of stopping, the sense of achievement is huge. As the Southland Times said, it's not about winning but just surviving it. It also turns out I'd been running with a minor celebrity / guinea pig, with the Otago Daily Times doing a piece on Cath earlier in the week (she didn't mention Everest Base Camp to me when she started running at the 30km mark!).

Ben's also been inspired to start running too and we did a gentle 3km jog / walk into Wilton Bush on Monday (exercise for him, recovery for me - sorry knees).

There are a couple of organisations / people I need to thank. Firstly to Store Manager Ben at Gymeez who gave me nutritional advice literally fuelling my Kepler effort and some common sense when I was getting a bit stressed out about the whole thing. If you need gels, powders, drinks, bars, equipment or anything at all to support your bid to do something even half this crazy, either visit Gymeez or email Ben directly: info@gymeezwellington.co.nz. Secondly to Bodyworks who's great equipment, facilities and classes enabled me to train, and get fit and strong during Wellington's (very) inclement winter weather.

Thanks guys - you helped me go from just a mere Coast-to-Coaster to an Ultramarathoner.
I said at the end of the Coast to Coast mountain run I'd never do it again (before promptly trying to work out how to reduce my time in future). With the Kepler, I came off the finish line delighted to have stopped, ecstatic to have made it but knowing it was an insane distance. It took me 4 days to fully comprehend that I'd done it, a week to fully recover and about 10 days before I decided I'd be putting my hat in the ring for next year.

Loose a couple of stone, get some serious cheek bones and bring Ben along with me. I mean, how hard can it be?

El, Cath and Paul's Most Excellent Adventure

2009-12-07T20:17:00.000-08:00

I've never actually not had ANY sleep prior to an event, but the night before the Kepler was a long, slow one.

We'd driven in from Queenstown, past The Remarkables and out to Te Anau with me hoping that the low rolling hills I was spying were those that the Kepler track snaked through, rather than the snow covered summits that surrounded us. Inevitably as we drove into the small township (pop 1,800) I saw the start of the track and it suddenly dawned on me what I was in for. The sun shone down on the cool waters of Lake Te Anau, as the snow covered mountain range rose up behind it and loped away in the distance. This was the Kepler Challenge, not the Kepler stroll.

There were the delighted locals, who embraced the race and its participants with the enthusiasm of excited children - if they weren't participating themselves, they were on the committee / manning a station / on the course somewhere supporting (if not all 3). Then there were the uber fit whippets with pronounced cheekbone and single digit body-fat percentages who'd done it all before and who were enjoying being back for the race. And then there were the amateurs who hadn't seen the course but only the mountains stretching away on the other side of the lake and were getting an inkling of what they were in for. The difference between the two was obvious – if the smile was relaxed and comfortable they were local or experienced. If it was slightly panicky and you could see the whites of their eyes...

I spent far too much time looking out for and sizing up fellow runners. They're wearing sneakers, they look fit, I bet they're a 6hr runner. Oh God, what happens if they're a 10hr runner? Where does that leave me?

We registered and got talking to a local (Ray - 72yrs, this would be his 20th Kepler), who said that the course was originally thought to be 67km. It was then measured with a GPS device and reduced to 60km. Just to be sure, he'd then walked the entire course with a measuring wheel (a tramper he'd met on the path had said “haven't you got a dog?”) and it came out at 61.7km. Ray recommended walking the hills and not worrying about posting a specific time but just get through it...and then come back next year and beat it.

The pre-race briefing on Friday was full of nervous energy. The local meteorologist said the forecast was for clear skies, a light northerly and rain later on. I wasn't sure how much later was 'later on' but I hoped it stayed dry.

The local PC (who was responsible for our safety on the course) said that if we hadn't reached Rainbow Ranch (50km mark) by 10hrs we would be pulled out. This was slightly nerve wrecking considering a) it was a hell of a long way to get into the race only to get pulled out and b) I thought the general consensus was that if you got to the 50km mark and it looked like you were going well enough to finish, they'd let you go through.

The local DOC ranger said there was good news and bad. The good: the track was in excellent condition, the snow (!!) we were running through would be hard packed, they'd cleared up a slippery area later on in the race and the scree slopes (!!) were good. The bad: as the track was in such good condition, we would have to do the entire 61.7km.

Runner Malcolm Law entered the auditorium to a standing ovation. He and his support crew had run 6 of NZ's great walks in 6 days and were finishing with the Kepler Challenge (7 in 7) – a total of 359.7km all to raise money for the NZ Leukaemia and Blood Foundation ($90k and counting).

After a brief pasta dinner, we headed to bed and I did my best to feign sleep. I'd packed my bag, my clothes were laid out for me, my breakfast all prepared. I spent the entire night trying to calculate what time I could reach each section of the race and still make the 50km cut off. Every now and then I felt I'd be OK and could only do my best. And then I went back to calculating again. It was a long, restless night. But all too soon, 4am came.

Yes, 4am. That's right. Enough time to get some breakfast in, allow it to settle, get dressed, packed and head off to the start line. An organised coach collected a lot of us from the hotel at 5.15am and drove the 5km to the control gates / starting point. The ride was quiet. It was still dark outside and there was a full moon. It was cloudless and cold and as we registered, we looked around to try and ascertain where in the 400 runners we should seed ourselves on the start line and whether we could believe what we were about to do. I admit I shed a few nervous tears before we all hugged our loved ones good bye, moved to the start line and waited for the off.

I'd spent 2 days trying to spot fellow blogger Paul, who was apparently staying at the same hotel. He'd been training hard for the Kepler but in the last week had come down with major stay-in-bed-for-4-days-man-flu and was only going to make a decision at the last minute as to whether or not he was going to actually do the run. I only knew him through the few photos on his blog but he described himself as a midget who'd be tucking into deserts. Ben (my aforementioned loved one) didn't actually believe he existed (and referred to him as the Poisoned Dwarf the entire weekend). Looking around for Ben at the start line, I saw this chap moving through the crowd to talk to one of his friends standing next to me. Eleanor? Paul? Yes. Hand shaking and general how're you going? Quick photo and we were off. Very strange to meet him literally 2 mins prior to the off, but great and we nervously chatted for the first 6km run into the bush.

The Run

The first 6km were a lovely flat bush covered run. Slight rises but otherwise flat, with nothing but the heavy breathing and footfalls of 400 runners making their way through the bush, jostling for an appropriate place speed wise with slower runners courteously moving left so the faster ones could move through.

There was chatting, there was laughter. All of it covering nerves and a slight sense of desperation.

There were 10 drink stations / check points throughout the course and all had been challenged to create the "Best Checkpoint" with a $200 bar tab up for grabs. As we reached the first point (Brod Bay), there were streamers and balloons, fairies and cheers for the runners as we went through, stopping to collect water and Leppin, before being wished well on our way. Plus a sign saying “5km done – only 55km to go!”. Oh well, it had been a good warm up.

And then the hill started. I'd started the run in a thermal and running top, it being so cold at the start, but soon stopped to remove the thermal telling Paul I'd catch up (ha ha) - it was the last I saw of him.

The climb went and on and on. Malcolm and his team powered on past, chatting and laughing as they went. He'd been given a special start 10minutes after the rest of us. “How depressing,” I laughed, “being overtaken by a guy who's just done 6 Great Walks in 6 days”. “Yeah, but we're having a siesta at Iris Burn” he said. “Great, count me in” I responded as they headed off up the path.

Upwards and upwards, back and forth, heavy breathing, sweating, legs hurting, fellow walkers around me also hurting. I chatted to plenty - what time are you hoping to post? Done this before? - all trying to ascertain whether I should push harder or whether I was doing OK. Cherie, a local, said the fact that I was talking meant that I could complete the race, which came at the right time as I was considering getting to Luxmore Hut, throwing my toys and going home. She also said for every minute we pushed in this climb, we added 10 minutes on to the end: it was so steep and just went on and on and on (this was the 8km ascent Gordon Walker had mentioned).

I chatted with another fellow who told me to shorten my stride so my pulse rate could drop – again perfect timing. He was chatting to a lady called Cath – she was also working as hard as me and having about as much fun.

I'd heard of Lion Rock, but didn't know if I'd recognise it when I got there. However when we did, it was pretty obvious, being a HUGE (multi-storey) limestone rock that just appears on the track ahead of you, with the path snaking round to the left of it. It's stunning and dizzyingly big. It was great to get there as it meant a big chunk of the climb was out of the way. There were a couple of metal staircases before the track left the rock and continued on.

And then we were out on the tops. Out of the bushline and into the alpine tussock grass. And the views... Wow. That's right - we're in a National Park in Fiordland - with snow covered mountains, lakes and views that went on for ever. The inclination to stop, admire the view and take photos was HUGE but with a sign saying that Luxmore Hut (2nd checkpoint) was 45mins away, I stopped merely to put back on my thermal top (without the bushline to protect us, it suddenly became apparent how high we had climbed) before continuing on upwards.

There were runners spread right across the course. Apparently the lead runners were now an hour beyond Luxmore Hut (which seemed nigh impossible given we'd only been going 2.5hrs!) and there were helicopters hovering off in distance probably keeping an eye on the lead pack.

Turning a corner, Luxmore Hut suddenly came into sight. A very pleasant sight at that. Balloons, horns, Christmas hats and “Welcome to Luxmore” called from the balconies. This is where they crown the King / Queen of the mountain - it's also gear check spot to ensure that no one's dumped any equipment to get a lighter pack. It was also a great opportunity to refill the water pack and grab another swig of Leppin before heading around the back of the hut and up the hill.

This is where I realised how high we had to go - the trail snaked its way up the mountain and around the edge of it. I had no choice but to continue upwards - if this was where the path went, this is where we were going. With Cath coming along behind me, we gradually started to overtake some of those who had started off too hard. Having said that, we were also being overtaken, and it was really just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other, keeping an eye on the rocky track and admiring the view when you could.

A couple of runners came towards us down the hill - they'd injured themselves (a knee had blown in one case) and they were descending back to Luxmore for some medical assistance. Good reminder that if the skinny fit ones could injure themselves so could the rest of us.

Up through the snow and round the corner, to more stunning Fiordland views (steep mountain, long drop to big lake) and the path snaking away upwards. This continued for some time. Although Mt. Luxmore is the highest point of the Kepler, you don't actually go to its summit, but wind your way around the back of some other peaks, down some steep zig-zags that had scared me terribly on video footage (one hand up to the side of my face so I couldn't see the drop – gentle progress down these) and eventually up and around to Hanging Valley.

Cath and I were working well together and we made our way over and onto the ridge (which in other years they've had to crawl over in high winds), up another hill and down on to the other end of Hanging Valley. Admittedly I spent most of this section looking at the path, but it wasn't the knife edge I'd seen in other pictures.

At the end of it, I saw a figure up ahead, and called to Cath that it would either be a number check or a photographer so prepare to smile. Turns out it was "just a local out to support runners - looking great girls". This was typical of the generosity of spirit of the Te Anau locals. Slightly less typically, he also had a kea with him. He also said we hadn't got far to go until it was all down hill. "How far is not far?" I asked him. "Ummm... well...."

We continued upwards up to the final crest of the mountains and reached Hanging Valley shelter. Or Hanging Valley Hilton as it had been renamed for the event. With signposts out to the Golf Course, Sauna and Spa it was very tempting to stay, but we slugged back more water and started the long staircase descent.

The staircases were on the ridge line and quite steep (focus on the stairs Eli, not the view either side). Cath and I chatted our way down it, running when we could but tending to take care with the stairs. And then to the switchbacks...

I'd been dreading these 87 zig-zags down to Iris Burn Hut (not quite 1/2 way), but as soon as we started on them we entered beech forest as the staircase had taken us down out of the alpine region. Running this was easy and comfortable and we made rapid progress.

Half way down we'd encountered a galloping Cherie who yahoo'd past us at a great rate of knots. Obviously what she lacked in hill climbing, she made up for in hill descents and she was long gone before we made it anywhere near the hut. And we could hear a bell clanging away in the distance.

200m out from Iris Burn the balloons started, all with messages of welcome and support. They started so far out actually, we were agonising about when this damn hut would show up! The bell got louder and when we actually ran into the checkpoint, there was Rudolf ringing his bell, high fiving all the runners who came in – no matter how bad you were feeling, you couldn't help but smile. Father Christmas refilled our packs, angels ticked off our numbers and a paramedic watched on sternly as I popped 2 Panadol, trying to decide whether I actually needed medical attention or was just trying to dull the fun my knees and ankles were having.

Also with the rise in temperature (down in the valley compared with the alpine region), the sandflies attacked. In the 2 minutes we were at the hut, we'd taken off our thermal layers, refilled our water, scoffed some jellybeans and got bitten about 30 times, so we were off and running through the beech forest on the 'easy, downhill' bit of the track.

Months ago, some turkey had commented that the real race starts at Iris Burn. “Bah humbug” I thought, “if I can get through the mountain section, the flat bit will be a walk in the nice flat park”. It turns out the turkey was right. It had taken us 5hr15mins to do the 27km to Iris Burn and from then on my GPS km indicator just didn't move.

I'd told Ben that if I'd completely overestimated the race, I'd be in in about 9hrs30mins. Otherwise sometime between 10 - 11hrs. As Cath and I jogged along the nice flat terrain, I wondered whether I'd need to contact Ben and tell him we'd be in earlier - we were doing so well - but I figured that he'd be there anyway, so it wouldn't really be necessary.

Cath was chugging along at a nice pace. I wasn't sure I could keep up with her for the entire 30km (she was RUNNING for goodness sake!), but decided that I would keep up for as long as I could. Despite attempting basic arithmetic in my addled brain, I still wasn't 100% sure I'd make the 50km marker by the 10hr cut off time, so thought my best bet was to run when Cath ran, and walk when she walked. And if I could get her to talk lots, she'd tire more easily and walk more! OK, I wasn't that devious but Cath sure did like her running.

Cath had worked out some estimated times between huts and having previously covered this terrain on a stoat trapping weekend, she was pretty sure that the next hut (Rocky Point) was an hour away. 1hr40mins later, we were still wondering when it would turn up.

We were gradually reigning in runners who had taken off too fast on the alpine section, but we were also being overtaken by others. Occasionally we met a legitimate tramper on the track, who cheered us along and said we were making it look easy. Fibs. Complete fibs.

Although the track was predominantly down hill, there were still nasty little hills we had to climb - they didn't last long, but just enough to remind our quads which had been killed on the descent from Hanging Valley, that their job wasn't over yet.

Eventually we turned up at Rocky Point, themed as M*A*S*H, and as ever we were welcomed in by enthusiastic locals. We grabbed another Leppin drink (by this stage I was mainly using their Leppin drinks to top up as my hydropack was still full) before we headed out. Cath was hardly stopping - just enough to uplift a cup or two, before she was off again. I was aghast (I'd been hanging out for a quick stop and chat) but thought if I didn't stay with her the next umpteen km would be a nightmare.

We came past a chap in his 40s who was looking decidedly uncomfortable but was still moving forward. He also told us we were looking strong, but he knew how far we had to go so he wasn't pushing it.

The track wandered in and out of beech forests, with ferns, moss covered rocks, a scree slope and beautiful stunning scenery. Plenty of discussion was held on how much incredibly harder the race would be if it was held in reverse – going up those switchbacks and then on to the alpine section would have been torture. It wasn't easy going as it was.

The km dawdled by. At 43km (8hrs) my GPS ran out of juice. Head down and keep going. Jog, walk, jog, walk.

One of the runners on the Luxmore hill told me that the last 30km is known as the Death March by the locals as this section is mind over matter. You're exhausted by the first half and just want to get home, but you're so far out and the km creep past so slowly that it just doesn't seem like you're getting anywhere. I think we were covering the terrain at about 6.5 - 7 kph, so the maths suggested I was going to have to keep up with Cath at this pace if I wanted to reach the finish line within the next 5hrs (5 hours!!! That's FOREVER away!).

I was chowing down on the Em's Powerbars and Leppin sachets. They were great. Easy to get down and stay down and with a constant intake I didn't feel like I was tiring due to lack of food - just lack of fitness.

We were making our way alongside the river and it was great to see it gradually get wider and eventually joining Lake Manapori - we were at least getting somehwere.

Then to the Moturau hut checkpoint at the 44.6km mark. There was Malcolm and his crew have a huge laugh and rest. They hadn't been kidding about the siesta. Cath didn't even stop to grab a drink and we booted on through, covering the ground fast. We must have provided incentive for the 7-in7 crew as they passed us again, not 10 mins later. “Almost there” said one of them. “Yes” I replied, “I'm visualising that finish line and medal but it's just out of reach.”. “No” he replied, “it's just within reach”.

I heard a shining cookoo and saw several mice. There were fantails and stunning views of the river.

Ankles, knees and shoulders were sore. Hands were swollen. Calves and quads were complaining. But the feet continued onwards.

A young girl came down the path in the other direction carrying minimal gear so wasn't a tramper, but it seemed odd for her to just be out for a day walk. Turns out she was the daughter of the gentleman we'd seen just outside the M*A*S*H checkpoint, going in to cover the last 20km with her dad. With renewed energy (and possibly some secret stash of energy bars) they steamed past us and headed off into the distance.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, we came across Cath's husband. He'd entered in previous years, hoping to post an 8hr time, but had been struck down with severe cramping after the switchbacks. Unfortunately the same had happened again this year (despite having no issues in his training) and he was slowly making his way through the trees. After a brief discussion, we continued on knowing he was OK, if disappointed, to reach the finish line whenever he got there.

Then finally into Rainbow Ranch. The 50km mark and time check - 9hrs. Praise be: they weren't going to DNF me for not having made the cut off. However, the stumbling had started. Taking my eyes off the path to admire the view or losing concentration for a moment, I had to catch myself several times and almost hit the ground. A really good reminder that even at this stage, a twisted ankle or pulled muscle could mean the end of the race.

There is car access to Rainbow Ranch and a lot of supporters had started to gather, cheering every one on, bringing fresh food supplies and general encouragement to the weary staggering their way around the course. "Only 10km to go" they called. Blimey, the last 10km had dragged by... I mentally reset myself to run 70km. I'd need more concentration to get to 70km. I'd need my body to hold together just a bit longer for 70km. I'd need to look after myself for another 2hr. Just hold on El, just hold on.

5km to go - another checkpoint. Another drink station, another power through. Then the 2km checkpoint. 2km run from home - that's nothing. That's down to the end of the street and back a couple of times. That's nothing. Where's that damn finish line? We could hear the tannoy annoucing the arrival of competitors. Where's that damn finish line? Only 1km to go. Cath picked up the pace. I stayed with her. Where's that damn finish line? We came around a bend in the river and could see the control gates, miles away (figuratively). We walked. And then there were family members walking up the path to wait for their runners, cheering us on - only 200m to go. We started to run.

Final checkpoint and then up on to the control gate bridge. This was it. Look up. Smile. Where's Ben? Cath and I running stride for stride together. There was no pain. No discomfort. Just joy and wonder and the finish line. And we were through. Both recording 10hrs27mins36secs. Hugs and medals, juice and beer. The commentator asked if we'd run the whole way together - “from 5km in” I responded. We'd run 55km together. Talked about anything and everything and finished the job together.Ben was at the finish line taking photos. Cherie was there having arrived 5mins before us. Then I was stretching, trying to straighten or bend the muscles that would without others cramping. "Don't do it" I said to a group of ladies who were nicely encamped with their G&Ts waiting for friends to arrive "it's insane". But the grin on my face and sense of wonderment that I'd actually completed it said otherwise.

Father and daughter came over the finish line together - we'd overtaken them at one of the checkpoints. Malcolm and his crew had come in 20mins earlier. Paul whipped all our butts and posted 9hrs30mins.

The Aftermath

My walking turned into hobbling and Ben helped me up to the car. My body had held together until the finish line, but no more. Back at the hotel, as I slowly lowered myself in to the bath (my quads were refusing to stretch, my knees refusing to bend) I rapidly discovered a severe case of chaffing (under arms, back and butt - damn that shorts label). Feet and ankles were swollen as were my hands.

After a long soak in a short bath, I showered, dressed, tried to stretch again and we headed out to dinner so I could eat something the size of my head and have the most gorgeous, wonderful Speights Old Dark I've ever had.

I was shuffling slowly, using Ben's arm as support but was amazed to see so many other competitors, walking round like they'd done nothing more strenous than have a picnic in the local park. I had to laugh - it was 60km people! Couldn't you at least pretend it pushed you a bit?

Back at our hotel, Ben poured me a wine (the champers he'd bought to celebrate would have been lost on me) and I lay down to relax my poor old legs. And then it got very dark...

A full gallery of photos can be found on Facebook, while a significantly better selection of the race can be found on Paul's Flickr site.

Final Post of a Would-Be Ultra-Marathoner

2009-12-01T17:40:00.001-08:00

We're heading out early tomorrow morning and should reach Te Anau tomorrow night. For those not familiar with little ol' Nu Zild, the Kepler Track is the red dot just outside Te Anau. The ENTIRE red dot!

I've done as much training as I've done and am the fittest I'll probably ever be. I'm assuming at this stage I'll get through the race - ideally in under 10 hours, but perhaps more realistically somewhere under 11.

I haven't looked at the long range weather forecast as we'll be running it in almost any and all conditions, unless it's dire when we'll be running the last (flat) 30km there-and-back.

Fingers crossed, stomach in, head up and see you on the other side.

P.S. If you're heading down there and spot me, come and say hi.

The Other Upside

2009-12-01T17:39:00.000-08:00

Shallow female I may be, but there are many benefits to all this crazy training, one being the weight loss. Or rather the changing shape of my body. My belt is now on it's final hole (6th as opposed to it's normal resting place of 4th) and some of my clothes which were snug 6 months ago, are now decidedly roomy. I'm not so skinny that there's any chance of me fading away, but my metabolism is such that the 2nd dinner helping I have doesn't stay around (almost worth the training alone!).

I'm also enjoying being fitter. My running doesn't feel any faster and the paths don't feel any easier, but I reach the summits much quicker than I thought I would and I'm still loving being able to look around Wellington, pointing to 5 hill tops and marvelling that I visited them all in one day.

There are also the unseen benefits - lower cholesterol levels (it was a healthy 4.3 anyway), lower blood pressure (120/80 I think at last count), not to mention the mental benefits of having something to train for, rather than just focusing on job hunting.

I've also learnt that I look forward to a drink, possibly too much. Prior to planting myself on the wagon (with occasional exits for specific events), I was restraining myself daily until 5pm (a time I deemed acceptable) before imbibing and was getting through probably 1/2 bottle per night. I don't physically miss it, but I don't half enjoy drinking it! Some would say I have a problem, others would say I'm very restrained. I'm definitely looking forward to a drink at the finish line though!

However the other, and most important upside, is the funds that the Child Cancer Foundation will receive thanks to those of you who have made a donation. For those who still want to, click here.

My family's a fairly healthy group, but cancer has taken a few members who were very important to us. I still miss them, and my life is a quieter, less rich place because of it. Their names are in permanent marker on the soles of my shoes and they'll be running across the hills with me.

I'm Fitter than a 3rd Former

2009-11-30T21:39:00.000-08:00

After a couple of supportive phone calls and some brilliant emails and comments, I'm feeling decidedly happier about this expletive race. Some may say I've resigned myself to it but after CJ's alternative suggestion of running it in the dark so I can't see the steep falls, I'd rather continue with things the way they are (thanks CJ!).

The universe is also doing it's bit to reassure me: I was out for a 1.5hr run on Monday in the continuing Wellington rain (36hrs and counting), when I came across a young school girl outside the Botanic Gardens looking decidedly lost. She was trying to get to Northland but had no bus money (or raincoat) and was getting steadily drenched. Having neither money nor spare jacket, but sporting knowledge (and a personal destination) of the quickest way to get to Northland, I took her with me via the shortcut (which in Wellington means steep ascent). 1:1 (or thereabouts) for about 70 steps. She reassured me that she was fit and used to live on a farm and she started off quite nicely. However by the mid-point she was struggling and by the end I was waiting for her!!!!

DOMINATION over a 12 yr old girl. BWAHAHAHA. I am truly Kepler material.

So Much for Plan A

2009-11-29T17:38:00.000-08:00

In yesterday's post, I talked about this week being about maintenance, tapering, injury prevention and not panicking, with perhaps 'not panicking' being the most important. It was all going well until I decided to do some more research...

A 2008 competitor took these photos of his race, and a 2007 entrant set his camera to take a photo every 5 minutes (1st section, 2nd section, 3rd section).

I know it's over used and very cliched, but OMG! It's not the hills so much but the descents in the 2nd section - particularly the path snaking it's way along the end of bloody cliffs.

I haven't previously blogged on my vertigo, but having just looked at those images my hands are sweaty and shaking and if pulling out was an option, I'd seriously be considering it.

I think tail-end Charlie might be holding my hand on the way down.... and I hope like crazy I don't end up on my own like I did for the C2C.

Seriously scared.

Sneaking in Before the Rain

2009-11-29T13:21:00.001-08:00

As I fought off consciousness on Saturday morning (damn birds!), I put on headphones and tuned in to National Radio as I find it very interesting but also very soporific. However, I caught the 7am news and the following Wellington weather forecast: "there is a heavy rain warning for Wellington which should arrive in about an hour. This will be followed by Southerly gales."

Groan. If I was going to get a run in, it needed to be now. So for possibly the first time in my running "career" I struggled out of bed, into my running gear and rain coat (it was already raining lightly) and out the door before 7.30am.

Heading down into Wilton bush, there were some campers tenting it in the middle of the picnic area. As I arrived (heralded by my giant plodding footsteps), the tent flap unzipped and a head poked out to admire the drizzle. "Heavy rain on it's way", I called as I ran past. Moving wet gear and packing down wet tents in the rain - ahh, the joys of camping.

I decided to head up through the trees via previously discovered mountain biking paths which were still dry, the rain having not made it through the trees yet. I took to wearing my raincoat around my waist, until I got up to the cleared farmland and out of the trees. Pausing to put my jacket on, I looked at the exposed area I was about to head out into, again with low visibility due to low cloud, and decided that I was tough enough to tough it out and headed off upwards.

However, once up on the tops and being blown back and forth while (attempting to) stand still, I again turned tail and headed back into the trees. Now is NOT the time to fall off a bluff, twist an ankle or do anything that might hamper next weekend's (eeek) run.

Aside from trying to find somewhere sheltered, I spent most of the run thinking "this time next week.... I'll be 2 / 2.5 / 3hrs into the run.... hope I find some nice people to run with.... hope the weather's not like this.... hope there's not too much snow on the tops.... hope my feet hold up and I don't die..." etc

There's a sense of panic that's building in the pit of my stomach. I'll be merrily thinking about Christmas presents or family birthdays or upcoming holidays and then my brain reminds me that "... dun, dun, daaahh...that's all after you've run 60km ...this coming weekend". Cue heavy breathing, tightness of breath and an urgent need to head to the loo!

I headed back through Karori Cemetery and back to the picnic area to find the campers, still in their sleeping bags, sheltering under the um.. shelter, enjoying a cup of tea watching the rain come down. It did now seem significantly more civilised that running around the bush at that hour of the morning.

Returning home, I did some core strength work which I've basically stopped doing since my gym sponsorship expired, mainly because I'm not practised at doing it at home. Much to my surprise and consternation, I noticed a huge difference in my comfort levels when I was out on my 4hr run the other day - my stomach (yes alright, my gut!) moved more than it should when running down the final descent from the ridge line and over several hours would easily become another source of ache.

This week's all about maintenance, tapering and injury prevention. A few small small runs, white spirits on the feet and sit ups. And not panicking.

Last of the Big Ones

2009-11-26T20:48:00.000-08:00

After my enthusiastic (ahem) sprint sessions, I decided to head out for an hour's hill work and see if I could push the tempo somewhat (which reminds me, I must sort out my mp3 player with some decent music).

I headed out onto the hills on a humid Tuesday and got as far as the beginning of the Ngaio firebreak only to get buffeted by huge winds which, given the low visibility (50m) made little sense to me (surely winds of that strength would have blown the low cloud away?) Anyway, the non-meteorologist in me turned tail and went off to find another run where I could both see and run safely - gees I'm picky.

After an hour of staggering around, I returned home: it was a hard and uncomfortable run - and a good reminder to CUT MY TOENAILS before I do any long runs, oh say, next weekend! (Ed's note - Eleanor was going to insert an image of 'long toenails' in here, but the images that came up under that search are enough to provide nightmares themselves, let alone combining them with the photo below - you have been warned).

Thursday's run was much better, give or take the huge "I hate running, I really mean it, why am I doing this?, I HATE IT" mindset I fought for the first hour (I was running in the Butterfly Creek gully again over in Eastbourne and there was no radio reception there). However, when I negotiated with myself to go on for another hour and then turn back (I wanted to put in a tough 4 hours), I felt much better.

I decided to turn my focus on getting to Mt. Lowry's summit before I reached my turn around time (2.5hours given the return would be faster, downhill) so pushed it hard.

I'd forgotten how tough the terrain was and after a couple of months absence and the arrival of spring, the paths are overgrown, and 5 times I had to stop and check I was still on path before retracing my steps.

My legs really felt the different terrain - big rutted descents followed by steep rooty ascents and duck-down-and-climb-over paths. I was working really hard, but reckon I must have been covering the terrain faster to develop such a lovely sweat mark at the Mt. Lowry summit. Yes, that's my butt sweat (and proof that I haven't lost that much weight!). Yum!

I didn't have any Em's Powerbars with me and spent the entire run gulping Leppins. It was a bit of an experiment to see how the body held up solely on liquid gels (fine as it turns out) but also because I didn't actually have any Powerbars at home (will have to head to Gymeez and correct that!)

The weather was decidedly nicer than it had been last time I came this way. The photo on the left is the view on the descent from Mt. Hawtrey - and where I'd got so terrified about being lost .

I made it back to the car in exactly 4hrs, having covered 18km. It was perhaps not the best run to finish the last of my large training runs on (in 4hrs I'd hope to have covered more like 24km) but I know the track will be much easier on the Kepler, unless they've thrown in a secret obstacle course, just for kicks. And St. John's Ambulance crew practice.

Waiter! There's a hare in my Tortoise stew

2009-11-22T12:05:00.000-08:00

Sprinting. It's a concept I've heard about but not something I've ever entered in to. In my childhood, my little sisters could out sprint me both in the pool and on land (Ed's note - probably because they knew if they got caught, they were in trouble). In my teen years and throughout my 20s, I played defensive positions in Underwater Hockey - long breath hold, what you lacked in speed, you made up in persistence and the occasional surreptitious foul. I'm also a road cyclist, so I work well in a pack and can cover long distances but I tend to change down gears to go faster, rather than increase my cadence (that's hard work!)

Never having done anything where I had successfully relied on speed, it could explain why I am relatively comfortably getting through my longer distances but not going to break any land speed records.

It's also a Catch 22 - am I fitter because it takes me longer to do the distance (e.g 11hrs) or are the people who run it in 9hrs on a whole other planet of fitness from me? I think it's also a slow response thing - my other 1/2 runs down flights of steps faster than me, because he can move his feet faster.

With just over 2 weeks to go, I decided to put some sprint work in and see how the tortoise would survive trying to pretend it was the hare. Short version of the story: Tortoise stew for dinner tonight.

I thought I'd go out and do a flat 5km sprint, so dusted off my road running shoes (!!), made my way 500m up the road and off I went. I was wearing my Garmin 405 (which really deserves a whole other post) so could tell the distance covered, but it seemed to increase in very slow increments. Waddaya mean I've only covered 250m? I'm slugging my guts out here!

What I lacked in style, grace and coordination, I made up for in laboured breathing, sports induced asthma, aching rib cage, sore shoulders and sweat. And I only managed 3.07kms in 15mins. Mutter, mutter, mutter.

Friday. Round 2. Right, it can't be that hard. I'll relax and that'll help. I set off again, focusing on relaxing my shoulders, maintaining speed and doing everything I could to cover as much ground as comfortably and as quickly as possible. 3.14km in 14mins. Gah.

I also can't believe how knackering it is. I came home, showered and basically wanted to go to bed.

Feeling decidedly fat and blobby having not put in any 1hr + runs in over a week (that's scary just to type!) I went out and 'free ran' (i.e no distance, route or time planned) around Karori Cemetery yesterday. I found a brand new path that I'd run past numerous times (where did that come from?) and headed along it, finding bridges, stream-side tracks, a small chapel, a shipwreck graves walk, and really peaceful areas. I didn't realise how large it was and it was just nice to potter along, seeing what I saw and and exploring as I went - my favourite type of running.

Knowing it was going to be a comparatively short run, I pushed the speed on the last leg, returning home after 45mins. There will be a couple of my longer, more usual runs during the week, but I'm just trying to put on the speed and enjoy my running. Better late than never!

So long and thanks... (now) for the Power Bars

2009-11-18T15:08:00.000-08:00

A big thank-you to Bodyw orks who has been wonderfully generous and sponsored me for the last 3 months of my training. Having that gym membership has been essential for my structural strengthening and injury prevention (not to mention providing me somewhere to train during torrential downpours). Now that their sponsorship has concluded I'll have to continue with the work I can on the carpet at home - though it's just not the same without mats and full length mirrors to make sure I'm not cheating! Thanks Bodyworks - best gym in Wellington (not to mention Porirua).

I'm delighted to be able to welcome and rave about Gymeez - the brilliant fitness shop on the corner of Willis and Manners Streets here in Wellington (but also with outlets in Christchurch and Dunedin). Store Manager Ben is helping me power my way through the Kepler, by providing almost my own body weight in Leppins and Em's Power Bars (email him directly for these little gems: info@gymeezwellington.co.nz).

As well as stocking a great range of sports equipment and supplements, Ben can provide excellent first hand nutrition advice (he helped me get through the Coast to Coast), general support and encouragement. I fully recommend talking to Gymeez about the best way to get through your next event.

A Pictorial Essay of Wellington

2009-11-13T11:43:00.001-08:00

Aside from the 43km I'd put in a couple of weeks ago, I hadn't yet put in the 70 - 100% distance that the Kepler site recommended. With just over 3 wks to go I knew that if I didn't get out and put in the monster training session now, I wouldn't have enough time to recover, start tapering and generally prepare for the actual race. PJ had abandoned me, hail was forecast and it was Friday 13th - sounded like ideal conditions for the big push!

With a full pack and full stomach I headed out of my front door on Friday at 7.30am and up the road to the top of Tinakori Hill, stopping to admire the novelty of being out so early, appreciate the blue sky and take footage of one of the ridge-lines my travels would take me on.

I ran along the summit of the hill and descended into Wadestown, and then dropped down into Ngai o Gorge. Turning left and heading along this now reasonably familiar track, I greeted another early morning runner, looked at the gorgeous green surrounds and wondered how I'd feel in another 8 hours when the morning commuters were heading back the other way.

Reaching the end of the Gorge, I decided to head right along the main road, into Khandallah and climb Mt Kaukau rather than the Crow's Nest: today was about ticking all the boxes and Kaukau was a rather large box to tick - especially via the Stairs of Death (as they're lovingly known by Wellington runners and mountain bikers alike).

I've only ever been down the SOD and they seemed long and deathly in that direction. Much to my delight, they weren't as bad as I anticipated (taking only 30mins to ascend, rather than the hour the sign predicted) and after a brief video stop at the top, I started jogging along the Skyline walkway towards Makara Peak.

The sun shone and the breeze was there but wasn't significant. The bad weather wasn't meant to roll in until the afternoon and my intention was to cover Kaukau to Makara Peak as quickly as possible as it was the most exposed section of the trek. Not to mention the fact that I was detouring from the main route so I could put my "oh look, a shiny / we're not in Kansas" in.

The view of South Island was clear and boded well for a delayed arrival of the forecast atrocious weather from the South. After a quick pop up my favourite hill return route, I was on to the last few km until the ascent to Makara Peak.

As I headed up the mountain biking paths to the summit, the 4hr mark rolled over, and I must admit to feeling a little relieved to stop for a few moments and take a few photos. An Em's Powerbar* later, I continued along the 4WD track and down into the Karori Mountain Bike park.

After stopping to fill up on water and a toilet break, I headed up Wrights Hill. Since Makara Peak I'd started to feel uncomfortable in my descents as well as ascents. My legs were tired and every now and then there was a slight stumble (= another bruised toenail).

I was somewhere in the 30km region by this stage, but still covering the terrain at a brisk pace, making it to Wrights Hill summit by 5hr30mins. I took a break here, choosing to sit and enjoy the view of Kaukau (where I'd been much earlier) and suck back a couple of Leppins. Memo to me: don't enjoy the view so much that you end up with Leppin all over your leg. And don't bother to lick it off - it tastes of sweat!

Back onwards, and back upwards. I dropped down onto the Gutbuster track and started heading towards the Brooklyn wind turbine. I knew I had some steep climbing to do, but forgot how much distance I had to cover: the detour to Wrights Hill from the Gutbuster is about 1/4 of the way round - not 1/3. This was tough going - not only steep, but really rutted; I was glad that I had my radio with me and the Sanctuary birds to keep me company.

Once at the summit the path ran parallel to the summit road, and I cut through, joinied the tarmac seal, and headed off towards the radome (Ed's note - known locally as the 'Golf Ball') at the summit of Hawkins Hill at the top of the tip track.

As I headed upwards again, the sky began to darken and the breeze began to pick up. I could see the Cook Strait from where I was, and there was at least one of the four horses of the Apocalypse riding towards me. As I reached the radome, it had arrived and it was all I could do to take a couple of photos, and run down the hill, bent over trying to shelter from the cloud and huge winds that had come in. Really scary to see low cloud being blown over the road I'd walked up in sunshine not 2 minutes earlier.

According to radio reports (I had my head phones in), people were calling in saying Wellington had just got very dark, there was hail in some places and that Armageddon had truly arrived. All the more reason for me to cover as much ground as quickly as possible.

Putting on my rain coat for heat retention (the rain and hail hadn't reached me yet), I made my way (at best attempt) at full pace along the summit of the Gutbuster to the Turbine, along and down the other side (I always forget how much it undulates at that it doesn't just go down from the Turbine).

Carefully making my way down the other side (it's pretty steep) and after a slight "where the heck am I?" detour, I was back into familiar territory and making my way through suburban Northland and up the other side of Tinakori Hill.

My ankles were hurting, having worked exceptionally hard and my feet were well blistered. Despite this and my aching legs, I was still fit (Ed's note - read "stubborn") enough to detour to the masts on top of Tinakori Hill (thus ticking my final box), take photos of Hawkins Hill (see below) and head down the path I came up 8hrs earlier. I even managed a slow trot down hill the to home.

8hr15min, 47km. Notably longer length (v 43km) and shorter time (v 9hr30min) than taken the other week - says something about knowing where you're going!

I had blisters upon blisters. Blisters in places that hadn't even been rubbing. All of my legs - that's the entirety of them, I haven't grown an extra one - ached, as did my glutes, back and swollen hands. However, the number of steep hills I'd climbed put me in good stead for the Kepler and as long as I bathe my feet in white spirits between now and then, every thing should hold up. No complaints from my hip and no chaffing either - bring on 5 December!

*Email Ben at Gymeez directly (info@gymeezwellington.co.nz) for Em's Power Bars - they're brilliant.

Ignore the first 'END' on the map - my laptop spat the dummy.

Normal Transmission Gets in the Way

2009-11-08T23:47:00.000-08:00

Tuesday´s great plans to go to Bodyworks and then to the pool were kiboshed by a) the car park being full, b) the street behind having no empty parks, and c) me finally twigging before I spent any more time looking, that I´d forgotten my sneakers anyway!

I headed home and went for a run instead - nowt like preparing for a run by going for one. It was only an hour, but just over 6kms, incorporating Wilton bush, Johnson´s Hill, and a couple of rainbow lorikeets.

Getting back onto the final flat section, I automatically went into the multi-sport trudge - slightly hunched over, small steps, covering the distance but at no great pace. However, deciding to push a little harder (I was running late), I stood tall, unfurled my shoulders, expanded my gait and discovered it was actually easier to run at that faster pace - I´ll make a runner yet!

Once back, I did a very quick change and headed off to see my weekly tormentor (and physio) Libby.

Despite the extensions and strengthening I´d put in, my back is still very stiff and referring pain into my hip. Generally it´s getting better, but because my left glute is weaker than my right, I´m not as stable as I should be through my back, so it holds itself tight to prevent further injury.

And I´m ignoring the recurring discomfort in my left ankle....

Magpies, Quail, Skinks and Dinosaurs

2009-11-08T22:16:00.000-08:00

An impromptu 8km walk on Tuesday convinced me the hip was up to starting impact training again, so Thursday the leggings and Icebreaker went back on, and after much procrastination, dreading the predictable loss of fitness, I headed back out onto the Wilton hills and slogged out 8km in 1hr13mins. The hills were walked but as ¨everyone walks the hills¨ I didn´t feel too much of a slack wimp.

For the first time, as I ran through the old farm, I understood the full terror of Alfred Hitchcock´s ¨The Birds¨ as I got dive bombed by magpies. Where was the cricket bat when I needed it? Those things are loud and mean and don´t take the panicked ¨expletive off¨ from a runner at all seriously!

Having run every combination of tracks around the local area, I ran Thursday´s route in reverse (more magpie dive bombing) - and took a whole minute off my time! Having said that, I felt a darn sight more tired, pre-run, than I had yesterday, so I was surprised I was marginally quicker. Not as fast as the quail I saw disappearing into the bush around Karori Cemetery, but if I saw a huge fuchsia giant pounding the road towards me, I´d head for the bush line too.

On Saturday I decided to see if the goat track was still in place between our former home in Wadestown and Ngaio Gorge, primarily so that I could link up with it, from here, in future. Having not been able to find the starting point of the descent (from Wadestown) I went for attack plan b: go for a run and see if you can find the other end.

Parking at one of the laybys, I ran up Ngaio Gorge as I had done the previous week, and made my way up to the top of the Crow´s Nest, headed one hilltop towards Kaukau, turned right and descended back into Ngaio, along the main road and back into the gorge.

It was a tough run. Only 11kms, but it took 1hr45mins and I´d consumed both my Leppins (my breakfast = a measly small bowl of muesli) en route. I didn´t stop for photos or breathers or to watch the skink as he disappeared into the undergrowth, only for a toilet stop (oh to be male, rather than dropping the pants behind a gorse bush - ouch!) and ended up walking the flats and trudging the downhills.

Towards the end of the run back in the gorge, I detoured across the reconstructed bridge and newly concreted steps that went over the Kaiwharawhara stream and up towards the railway line that we´d clambered across in previous years (usually on Sundays when there had been no train service).

There was certainly no sign of a path continuing beyond the rail line. In the last 15years trees and plant life had covered the area and the goat track had been replaced by dinosaur footprints - hard to find, potentially non existent and no one´s actually saying where they are.

By the time I got home, I was so hungry I was ready to vomit. A strange feeling, but fortunately one easily remedied by eating most of the fridge.

Good News and Bad

2009-11-02T11:21:00.001-08:00

After Monday´s Bodyworks session, where I spent an hour solely doing the various exercises Libby had given me, I went back to see her and she´s basically given me the all clear to start running again. Excellent news, but the hip´s (sorry, pelvis - apparently your hips are at the top of your thighs, not just below your waist [where she has her hands]) not quite back to normal. It´ll be a balance between training and injury (as ever).

On the disappointing (Ed´s note - cue toy throwing and foot stomping) news front, PJ has had to pull out of the Kepler due to illness. I´m hugely disappointed for her (get well soon PJ!) but also disappointed for me that my next 60km training jaunt will be a solo and a familiar face would have been great at the start line.

I ask again, isn´t this getting fit thing meant to be good for us??

How The Other Half Lives... While I Train (damnit!)

2009-11-01T12:58:00.000-08:00

Friday morning found me back at Bodyworks again, putting in another weight / core strength routine, before heading off to see the physio.

Despite symptoms not really having abated, she reckons there´s an improvement in my back movement. More exercises given - squats, leg raises, leg extensions all done without the pelvis or hips dropping or me leaning forward. Libby reckons I´ve enough time for all these exercises to make a difference, and reckons that if this event was a year away (as opposed to 5 weeks - eek) the difference in my running style would be huge. As ever, it´s a last minute cram!

Saturday I was back in the pool. Wellington´s swimming pools seem like second homes to me having spent so long training in so many of them (I played underwater hockey for 14yrs to national level, so for a large period of my life I sweated chlorine). It seems an outrage that they´re now charging $5.30 for an adult (it was $3.80 4 years ago) just to come to my 2nd home. (Ed´s note - refer my last comment re you being old).

Thorndon Pool is a gorgeous 30.5m historic tepid-water summer pool and one of the top 10 best gay pick up joints in the world. I kid you not. I read this in a magazine in San Francisco several years ago - 10th position: ¨Thorndon Pool, Wellington, New Zealand¨ and almost fell off my chair. Never having been picked up, seen anyone being picked up, or anything remotely untoward (gay, straight or otherwise), I´m not entirely sure how accurate this is. Having said that, as I only ever went to the pool to train - rather than frolic (see photo!) or chat, see or be seen, I suspect there might have been a whole other side of pool life I was oblivious to, as I cranked out more lengths, face down.

Wonderfully, my amphibious nature has returned, and remembering how to swim, was able to take 5mins of each kilometre and breath every 3rd stroke. My back still feels like its made of concrete though and every muscle group weighs heavy on the next. Isn´t getting / being fit meant to be good for you??

I Love the Smell of Chlorine in the Morning

2009-11-01T12:48:00.000-08:00

Wednesday I spent sulking and doing plenty of back stretches at home, but Thursday I dusted off my swimming costume, grabbed my face mask and headed to the pool.

Having played Underwater Hockey for years, I´m very experienced and comfortable in the water. However, having not actually played underwater hockey for years, I was very nervous and wondered how quickly I´d drown without my fins and snorkel.

I decided to take it easy and swim for a kilometre (33 lengths) or an hour, which ever came first. Took off from the edge, did 1/2 a length underwater (good, still got that), then surfaced and started the first of many ¨what am I doing?¨ lengths. Breathing was initially every third stroke, then reduced to every two strokes with the occasional every stroke thrown in - no, it wasn´t pretty.

Got to the end of 33 lengths and checked the clock. 25mins. Damn. Cranked out another 33 lengths, stopping to stretch the back occasionally and got out of the pool pretty pleased that after 4yrs absence I could still do an hour of swimming. Admittedly it wasn´t comfortable or pleasant to watch, but although other swimmers were going faster, I was the only one who cranked out anything like that distance... tortoises can swim!

I was also aware that my shoulders were an inch wider in the changing rooms and the return to ´swimmer´ physique is not far away. Also, scarily, I now understand why the triathlon was developed - being fit in all 3 disciplines (swimming, biking, running) would be excellent and I´d only have to double my swim to be at Ironman distance (3.8km), throw in a bit of biking (180km) and speed up my running ....

Might get over my hip injury and the Kepler first though.

The Return of the Ninja

2009-10-26T22:42:00.000-07:00

Back to wonderful Bodyworks on Tuesday morning. My core strength and stretching regime is now actually longer than my weights routine, even with the obliques section removed (due to the protesting hip). Still can´t see any sign of a 6-pack, but am sure I´m getting closer to a ¨cor, strength!¨ comment some time...

Off to the lovely Libby (physio) afterwards. She took one look at my somewhat pinked face (caught a little sun yesterday) and said:
Libby: ¨You´ve been running¨.
Me: ¨Er... yes....?¨
Libby: ¨Just for a couple of hours though¨ (she quipped).
Me: ¨Just a couple¨ (thinking it was actually 2.5hrs).
Libby: ¨How´s your hip?¨
Me: ¨Erm... it still hurts.¨
Libby: ¨And you´re still running on it.¨
Me: ¨Yes, but it´s not getting any worse!!¨
Libby: ¨It´s not getting any better though is it. Lie on the bed and we´ll see how bad it is.¨
Me: ¨Nooooooooo!¨

I´d rather spend 2.5hours running than 30mins with Libby. Physios know exactly how and where to prod to cause the most pain and are the ninjas of the health profession (because they know where you´ve ninjured yourself - ha ha!) Having said that, it does feel much better. And no acupuncture needles today so all good!

Running, in the short term, is verboten as is walking any significant distance. I can cycle and swim, but that´s it. Something about ongoing training preventing it recovering, causing a hairline fracture and then ultimately a broken hip. Bah humbug.

Ngaio Gorge - 2 decades later

2009-10-26T21:37:00.000-07:00

20 plus years ago, when my family used to live in Wadestown, we were regularly dragged on walks up Ngaio Gorge. It was a rugged minimally-pathed track, requiring walkers to make their way both up the stream and on top of large water pipes when the water got too deep / dark. There was a rocky path running alongside the stream for about 100m before stopping leaving you either to bush-bash further up the stream, or up hike up to Ngaio. This is after the cliff-hanging descent from Wadestown, down a goat track and across the railway line on an uneven lopsided rickety bridge (avoid using the hand rail, it´ll only take you with it onto the track below).

I discovered on Monday how long 20 years is (Ed´s note - yep, it´s official, you´re old!) as huge improvements have been made to the path and it´s now a respectable dog walking, family-friendly track running right the way through to Crofton Downs. There is no death-by-hand-rail on offer, but a fish ladder and an historic powder magazine and signs telling you all about them. Huge kudos to the various parties involved in the improvements.

The delight I had running up this new track completely made up for the run from the centre of town, through the industrial area of Thorndon (running on the pavement for heaven´s sake!), and fortunately provided me with the excuse to stop and take photos as I ascended the Crow´s Nest above Ngaio. I always forget how hard I find that ascent - I´m sure it doesn´t get any easier - I just get faster at it! (That´s my story and I´m sticking with it!)

I returned home, delighted to have covered the 15kms in 2.5hrs. No records broken but it´s one hell of a hill and my hip´s still not playing the game. Physio tomorrow. As long as she doesn´t touch it (or my leg or my obliques) she´ll never know it´s not back to 100%.

Wrighting Myself

2009-10-26T18:49:00.000-07:00

Sunday. A day of rest. Time to gently warm back into the training and take my lovely 11month old niece on a hike!

There is a plan emerging, involving a mammoth 60km trek / walk / run in a fortnight so we (PJ also signed up for this one) get something of appropriate length (where we know the route!) under our belt. This will be a great opportunity to connect most of the terrain I´ve covered - Kaukau, Wilton HIlls, Makara Peak, the Gutbuster and Hawkins Hill (sorry Colonial Knob and Eastbourne - but that´s just getting silly!).

However, connecting Makara to Hawkins means covering some new ground somewhere in the dim, dark recesses of Karori. I´d planned to run Makara Peak to Wrights Hill and, as ever, make it up and discover the route as I went along. However, ¨could you do some babysitting¨ intervened, and my 5kg pack evolved into 11kgs of leaf eating, wriggling and snoozing (!!) niece.

The dim, dark recesses of Karori turned into South Karori Road and the start / end of a lot of mountain bike tracks. Deciding that there were far too many mountain bikers on the path to scale with aforementioned pack - no matter how excited she was to see all these people whizzing past - we headed up Fitzgerald Ave and, spotting the Wrights Hill Summit sign, started up the winding track.

The track itself was pretty easy going, winding back and forth, rising, descending and rising again towards the summit. Having said that, having a lop-sided pack (the passenger kept insisting on looking over my shoulder) added to the challenge. As I chatted to her, pointing out the birds, the view and generally working hard on a continuous monologue (I´m sure she was taking it all in), I became aware she was even less responsive than usual as she slumbered her way through the boring bits (the uphill, not her Aunty´s conversation!).

We arrived at the carpark and made our way via the bushline to the summit where, putting down my passenger, I admired the view while she clambered around the lookout eating daises, convinced her Aunty was the smartest, most gorgeous and fittest person she´d ever met. She´s such a smart wee lass.

We headed down from the summit and onto the Gutbuster track circling Karori Wildlife Sanctuary, looking for a right hand turn that would take us back down towards South Karori Road, but only found the Parade Ground and another route around the summit.

Arriving back at the path we´d come up from Karori, we started our return journey with only a short detour 100m down a ¨difficult¨ mountain biking track. This would have eventually lead us back down to Fitzgerald Ave, but given the rooty, rocky terrain and the ongoing relationship I wanted with my niece´s mother, I decided against it and headed back the way I´d come.

We arrived back at the car - she delighted to have found more daisies to eat, and me, glad that the legs and hip seem to be working again.

All quiet on the training front

2009-10-24T13:01:00.001-07:00

I´ve got to the end of the week and reckon I´m still recovering from last weekend´s 43km. Physically I feel 99%, but I keep having to have wee naps during the day.

Little periods of unconsciousness (2-3hrs) have snuck up on me on Monday afternoon, Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday. I´ve also got some slight shivers every now and then so wonder if I didn´t get myself slightly run down last weekend. (Ed´s note - 43km in a howling southerly and rain, surely not?). I keep staring off into space and wondering if it would be better for my health or just plain lazy to go and have another sleep.

My food intake´s been good – well balanced and healthy. My sleep´s been a bit disturbed because of my hip but otherwise pretty good. My inclination is to think something else is going on and it´ll be a balance between training enough to build / maintain fitness and sleeping enough to ensure the lurgie doesn´t get me.

Alternatively it could just be that doing an off-road marathon is more tiring than I´d expected and in my naïve optimism, it was a slightly longer day at the office than I´d given myself credit for.

Evidently it´s the latter - having just found this website, I´ve failed miserably on doing / not doing 90% of these. Pedicure? Massage? Rest? What´s that?

Normal Transmission Temporarily Suspended

2009-10-24T13:01:00.000-07:00

Monday I went and luxuriated in the Bodyworks spa, letting all that wonderful warmth work its way into my gorse-filled hands and bruised butt. All I needed was Sven / Igor / some large Scandinavian fellow to come and massage my aching back, shoulders, arms and legs and supply me with a similarly impressive blue drink and everything would be right with the world.

Tuesday I could hardly move. The day-after-the-day-after had caught up with me and I shuffled round the house like an 80yr old – I ached all over and needed a little sit down after making a cup of tea. I still don´t understand why it takes 2 days for your body to realise you´ve all but broken it. (Ed´s note - answers anyone?)

Wednesday was my first day of exercise. The throbbing in my legs had reduced to normal levels but walking up slopes / climbing steps / getting out of bed was still causing heavy breathing, so decided just to stick with an upper body weights session and then core strength work.

The pain in my hip, which wonderfully had not caused any problems the previous weekend, was now back with a vengeance. Trying to do side planks (see photo) or any oblique work was out of the question. I reconciled myself to actually going to the physio and finding out what was going on, rather than just waiting for it to subside (you´ll note that I hadn´t gone when the injury actually occurred knowing she´d tell me to rest it and certainly not do any long 43km training sessions).

So the following day I went for just a little run around Wilton Bush, about 40mins, before heading off to be mangled by the physio.

She reckons it´s just a continuation of the back issues I´d had previously and that I´m suffering from a common runners´ complaint - an inflamed tensor fasciae latae and trochanter bursitis.

I tried to convince the physio that it was something to do with my brilliant running technique enabling me to continue this heavy training schedule. Unfortunately she countered with if that was the case, then I´d just generally be fatigued rather than having an injury on one side of my body. What would she know!

She recommended rest, but couldn´t guarantee that it wouldn´t return when I start training again. We compromised with reduced training and a few tears caused by the twirling of acupuncture needles.

Friday I went back to Bodyworks and did my extended upper body weights and then more exercises that I´d been given - back extensions, side leg raises etc. - all focusing on movement of the lower back and getting the body to realise there were other muscles that it could be using rather than going into damage control.

Saturday I just stared vacantly into space wondering why my training had fallen off and how I could get myself back on track... if only watching the grass grow wasn´t so strenuous.

(Ed´s note - Eleanor´s lack of training this week fortunately coincides with several articles which say take it easy for the same number of days as the number of miles you´ve run (i.e. 26miles = 26 days) and generally recommend rest, recovery and taking things easy. Given she walked a large number of those, normal transmission will resume next week!)

Fun with maps

2009-10-18T15:31:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wonder whether, in all this training, I have lost perspective. I reassure myself that I´m doing it for charity, to get me out of my comfort zone, and to use this time off work to do something extraordinary.

But then when you find yourself getting out of bed at 5am on Sunday morning, driving to Upper Hutt, to meet with a group of strangers and run 65km in torrential rain, you know perspective has long since departed.

There were 8 runners in the ¨slow¨ 6.30am departure group, but much like the length of a piece of string, how slow someone is, is all relative to those you´re running with, the weather conditions and if you know where you´re going. We all headed off, wearing wet weather gear, and up into the bush-clad hills on the Western side of the Hutt Valley.

The rain cleared up, so slowing to put rain jacket back in the pack, I let the runner (PJ) behind me catch up and we both headed up upwards. Unfortunately the pack was walking faster than us and very soon we lost them. Also unfortunately, the pack also knew where they were going - neither PJ nor I knew the area and were reliant on a map and run guide (which PJ had printed out on a whim and bought with her just in case) and map - both of which we were to discover, were not particularly user friendly (e.g. guide´s instructions ¨make your way to Cannon Point¨ - without route markers or signage).

We walked up a service vehicle access road, and passing areas which had been taped off, we stopped and queried not only the map and guide, but also a sign post with another map on it. There was no indication / direction to turn off on any of these, so we continued on upwards, into the low cloud and pine plantations. I kept an eye out for signs that runners had been through the area recently but there were none, though it was gravel and with so much water on the path any imprints were washed away.

After about 4km, I started to have nagging doubts and rang the course organiser having recently been past a road sign and was told we were way off course and needed to back track promptly as there was a motorbike race coming through (hence the taped off areas). We ran back to the turn off and took our best guess that we should head down there, but within 10m the road had split into 3 - again without markers or any mention on the map / guide, so we followed a sign that said Cannon Point walkway (figuring it would take us somewhere near Cannon Point) - and 20mins later we found ourselves back where we had started!

This was the first time we thought about going back to our cars and going for a run on a route we knew. However, Perspective and its close friend Rational Thinking had long since departed so we made our way via the Hutt River´s stop banks, back on to the course and started heading north.

Through intuition, common sense, backtracking and guesswork (Ed´s note - they´d helped a lot thus far!), we made our way up into Kaitoke Regional Park, under State Highway 2, and to the base of Mt Climie. We´d been overtaken by 2 runners in the 9am pack while we were in Kaitoke (they also knew where they were going) and by a group of mountain bikers who were also doing the course - they´d also left at 9am.

The first water stop was at the bottom of Mt. Climie and manned (womanned?) by a lady who although pleased to see us (Ed´s not - ¨relieved¨ I think is the word you´re looking for) basically tried to dissuade us from heading up Mt. Climie. Despite our slow progress thus far, I was feeling great, if frustrated by the hiccups in direction. PJ, who´s also doing the Kepler, was also keen so we headed upwards via the main road.

The rain kept on coming down, the temperature dropped as we climbed and I basically decided to put my head down and just get through it. Leaving PJ to climb at her own pace, I strode upwards finding it less steep than my beloved hill return terrain!! I then got major incentive to speed up as the last of the mountain bikers came into sight, pushing their bikes. Overtaking them (BWAHAHAHA!) I reached the summit to find the rest of the bikers, huddled in some of the trees up there. The visibility was 100m, a gale was blowing (now from the South so much colder), the rain continued and it was all damn unpleasant.

I huddled for a few moments, noting the track the bikers were taking from the summit, before backtracking to find PJ. Despite calling her name a couple of times, I got no reply, so headed back down the track a couple of hundred metres, thinking she might have injured herself. Around the corner she came, relieved to be there, but she hadn´t heard my calling - another indicator of the dodgy weather.

We headed for the path the bikers had headed down. Reading the guide (¨it´s steep, you won´t be able to see where you´re putting your feet¨) it was the first time the guide and I had agreed (see photo). I couldn´t believe they wanted us to take this path - didn´t they know how bad the weather was? We made it down the first 50m - slowly, carefully, and turned a corner to find another 50m, then another. Our pace had slowed to 2kph, both our temperatures were dropping and I was livid with the organisers for putting such a treacherous route in, in these conditions.

We came out from amongst the trees, only to find ourselves without shelter from the wind that whistled around us. The descent, if anything, got steeper. We were now using gorse trees (it didn´t hurt that much - I had no feelings in my hands [and have some major thorns embedded in them today]) to stabilise us, and spending more time on our backsides than we were on our feet. Every other word out of my mouth was an expletive - I was cold and bloody scared.

Finding a bit of shelter, PJ and I raided our packs for hats, gloves and polyprops before continuing. We had come out of the clouds and could see the valley below, but that wasn´t so helpful as we could see the yellow-ribbon route markers and couldn´t believe they expected us to make our way down this path.

I questioned regularly, whether we might have missed the track, as we couldn´t imagine mountain bikers making their way down it, but every now and then there was a tyre track and the yellow ribbons continued so we had little choice.

Had we known what the track was going to be like, we would have descended Mt. Climie via the main road and made our way back on course via some other route - it´s not a path I would be comfortable doing in the dry, let alone these conditions.

Eventually we made it back down to farm land, into a pine plantation and then a couple of km later, out to the road where the organiser - and our 2nd water stop - was waiting. Didn´t quite let him have both barrels, but made it clear, using very short words, how extremely unhappy I was coming down that route.

I also decided that given the extra detour we´d done early in the walk and the shocking conditions, to take the short cut back to base, rather than continue on for an additional umpteen km - most of it on the road.

Physically I was feeling very comfortable and felt that I could have easily continued. PJ was a bit worse for wear, nursing an (old) injury, and we returned to base, glad to be out of the freezing storm and into a hot shower.

The organiser (whose house it was) and I discussed the descent off Mt. Climie - it seemed I was an anomaly. The bikers had loved it, describing it as ¨gnarly¨ and the other runners had had no issues with it. Fine. As the novice, I still think there should have been another option. Preferably with a coffee shop on it.

Back home, warm and dry, with a pizza-and-wine-laden stomach, I rested my head on the wine box and recounted my ordeal to my relieved parents. I´m confident I can do the Kepler now, and although we took 9.5hrs to do 43km, if we had known the route we´d easily have taken an hour off our time - or possibly gone home much earlier!

Knobs and Hips

2009-10-16T14:17:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning I was out in Porirua and decided to use this glorious opportunity to check out the local branch of Bodyworks. Turns out it´s as bright, shiny and clean as the Wellington branch - and the showers are even better!

The hill on which the local radio tower sits, overlooking the city, is Colonial Knob - a combination of farmland and bush clad hills - and looked desperately liked it needed a climb. Actually, that´s a complete lie - but it was the nearest hill / off road run I could get to without driving.

During the first 2kms whilst making my way to the base of the hill, my left hip began to twinge and felt inflamed. I hadn´t tripped or pulled anything, so naturally (Ed´s note - naturally!) I decided to make like Steve Gurney and do the run anyway.

As I entered the bush (unbeknownst to me via the 500 steps route!!), my hip really started complaining so I slowed to a brisk walk and kept on marching.

It was gorgeously lush, tropical and dense bush, and the steps followed a stream up the hill until I broke out to the farmland and low cloud on the first summit. I couldn´t see much amongst the mist and rolling hills, so followed the path markers along the farm track which, of course, continued to ascend.

The path wound on and it was a bit disconcerting not to be able to see more than 100m ahead and with no company except for the occasional cow looming out of the fog. With low visability came low noise - only a magpie shattering the peace to give a real sense of the height I was gaining.

I was beginning to wonder whether I was still on the right path as I thought I was heading to the radio tower - visable from Porirua - but must have passed that ages ago (Ed´s note - the tower´s only half way up. The summit isn´t visable from Porirua). I decided to continue for another 20mins and if I hadn´t reach the summit I´d turn round and retrace my steps.

5mins later, I reached what can only be called a small shed with a stile next to it with a DOC marker saying ´Colonial Knob Summit´ and pointing out directions to places further afield (only 5.5hrs to Kaukau!) Apparently on a clear day you can see Kaikoura and Mt Taranaki: I was happy I´d found the sign!

I headed back down the hill, running the downhills but having to walk the flats and ups as the hip was still hurting each time I put weight on my left leg.

The fog started lifting and I got stunning views of Porirua inlet - it looks much better from up there, than driving past it on the motorway - before descending back into the bush, past the old reservoirs and back into Porirua itself.

Made good use of those wonderful Bodyworks showers. My hips causing quite a bit of pain - just in time for the big trip this weekend.

I don´t want to - you can´t make me

2009-10-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

Post tip track (lower case!) conquering yesterday, I´d headed to Bodyworks, to ensure I did my core strength work properly at least once a week. I also weighed my full pack - 5kgs of joy. If I could shed 5kgs from my frame, I´d just bounce along. Though as it´d involve actually cooking during the day, rather than having sandwiches for morning tea / lunch, I´m not sure whether it´s a surmountable hurdle!

Wednesday dawned soggy and showery. I was just heading out the door when a torrential downpour hit. Grabbed my wet weather gear and headed back out, only to find it had stopped again. Welcome to spring in Wellington!

I´d decided to head up through the Karori Cemetery and do hill returns up to Johnson´s Hill using the paths that ran too / from Karori / Johnson´s Hill summit. However I got 1.5 paths down (i.e had run up one and got to the bottom of the next) before the body started loudly protesting.

It wasn´t a pain, ache or twinge. It was just a real sense of ¨I can´t be bothered and don´t want to be doing this¨. I just wasn´t enjoying it and didn´t care enough to keep going.

Part of me wonders whether it´s boredom - doing the same tracks repeatedly - but once I´m actually out there I´m usually OK to keep going and have my headphones in to distract me from the pain and boredom.

I also refuse to believe it´s exhaustion or over training. I´ve even got used to not drinking and avoiding crisps, so really have no idea.

However it was such a stubborn and strong message, I took it as a sign and headed home having been out for just over an hour and about 6kms.

It´s probably not such a bad thing that I didn´t put in a normal run today - 65kms to do on Sunday, so I´m semi-tapering anyway.

THE TIP TRACK!!

2009-10-15T17:14:00.000-07:00

The reason the title is in capitals, is that the TIP TRACK is known as a tough, winding climb, that weaves its way up through the hills of southern Wellington. It´s the sort of track that ¨friends¨ suggest ¨friends¨ do when ¨friends¨ are looking for a hill run / mountain bike ride, and when ¨friends¨ want them to hurt. I´d tackled it once previously and got spanked for my efforts.

Taking in such romantic and panoramic views as the South Coast, the South Island and the Southern Landfill (hence it´s name), it came to mind as one I had so far failed to conquer.

Today was the day!

With full pack, I headed off up the windy, rocky, pathway, snaking its way upwards focussing on forward momentum, constant running and not the glorious smells and truck noises issuing forth from the bowels of the tip.

With a gently buffeting breeze, I made my way upwards, watching the path continuing to ascend, unravelling around the hills, knowing full well that the top was, well, the top and no it wasn´t going to be around the next corner as the summit still loomed large above me.

Legs were fine, lungs were working hard, brow was being mopped furiously.

Slowly, slowly the summit appeared. There was a slight respite as the terrain briefly evened out, but normal transmission and the steep path then resumed.

Keeping my eyes on the track, rather than the vertiginous slopes around me, I kept heading upwards, then I was through the gate and up at the top. Wow. Huge success and glorious views.

A tarmacked road descended to the Brooklyn Turbine which was pretty impressive, given how high the blimin´ turbine is. As I ran I saw Makara windfarm off to my left, Tinakori Hill and Kaukau ahead of me, and the Eastbourne hills over to my right which made me realise how much running I have done recently and how much more of Wellington I´ve seen from completely different aspects. Even reaching the Turbine, I ran alongside the Sanctury´s fence line as I had done only a few days ago.

There´s a r oad bike v. runner v. mountain bike race that starts at the bottom of Happy Valley (where I´d parked) and finishes at the Turbine. All 3 disciplines make their way via 2 different routes - I´d run the mountain bike / runner leg whilst the roadies stick to the main road. The winners (all 3 types) come in, in sub 30mins (but that includes World Champ Mountain Runners, so I didn´t feel too bad).

Having admired the view and taken a few photos, I turned around and headed back down the same route, returning to the bottom in just under 2hours.

I am a non-World-Champion-Moutain-Runner legend!

Walking in Waikanae

2009-10-15T15:07:00.000-07:00

Due to family commitments I spent the weekend up on the Kapiti Coast. I always take my gear with me in case there´s an opportunity to cover a new track - the Wilton hills are becoming as well known and as dull as the back of a rather boring hand, in dishwater.

Starting from Waikanae, mum and I headed up into the hills that sit behind / next to the township, making our way through some of the most gorgeous, regenerating native bush around, and up to the first lookout (see video - apologies for the heavy breathing) and up to the summit in about an hour (never quite sure as it seems much quicker and easier when I´m talking to someone).

On our way back, mum commented that I tend to take lots of little steps and edge my way down (comparatively) where as she takes great strides downhill. Of course my way makes a great deal more sense (Ed´s note - of course!) when you´re walking through clay / mud as you´ll never know when you´re going to take a slide. However, her way of doing it meant that she was less likely to slide, having her full weight on her landing foot, rather than leaning backwards in trepidation.

Once through the worst of the mud (I ain´t trying something new where I´m guaranteed to go arse over kite), I tried this new method (noting that Runner´s World had recommended descending perpendicular to the path, rather than leaning backwards - this would explain a lot about my skiing prowess. Or lack thereof).

It certainly allowed me to cover more ground faster (always a bonus), though the (perceived) sense of control was pretty minimised. You´re also using your quads for slightly longer in each step, but it´d probably work out better, as you´re covering more ground faster.

Nice to have that extra option (and no, I´m not admitting my mother was right!)

Getting drenched, while hiding from the rain

2009-10-09T14:53:00.000-07:00

The second sweep of ¨we´re not out of winter yet¨ swept through NZ on Friday. Wellington´s heavy rain warning bought 66mm to Kelburn, flooding in Ngaio, power outages and cancelled trains around the region, not to mention the snow on the Rimutakas.

Fortunately Bodyworks was open, dry and all their machines were on!

As the rain hammered down, and the rubbish bins filled up with broken umbrellas (welcome to Wellington weather!) I tackled a fast 8kms of steep climbing on the treadmill (Gordon Walker had specifically mentioned it), 45mins spinning on the bike (just to work the legs in another manner) and then another hour doing a hill profile on the treadmill again.

I´d put in an arms weight session before I hit the machines (having to decrease my weights as someone hadn´t done any for a week), and finished up by holding my stomach muscles in peculiar positions for too long.

Aside from being drenched, tip to toe, in sweat, a major case of chaffing (!!) and some slight shakes, I felt fine though very glad I´d taken muesli bars and an isotonic spots drink with me. Nowt like coming to the gym for a rest!!

More ups and downs

2009-10-09T13:20:00.000-07:00

Buoyed after Wednesday´s triumphant sprint around the Gutbuster, I decided that I´d venture back to my ol´ friend, the hill return, and pummel out a decent number this time, rather than negotiating my way from 10, to 5, to a reluctant 3.

I jogged down down to Wilton Bush to the picnic area (¨I am a super-athlete¨), started up the steps (¨I am, pant, the Lord, puff, of the stairs¨), through the bush (¨why, puff, isn´t, puff, this, huff, easier?¨) and up on to the tops (¨puff, pant, gulp, gasp¨). So much for superb fitness!

Starting off at the top (see photo) I made my way downwards (see that shed at the bottom - yes, that little speck!) and started the trek skywards.

Short version of the story: completed 5 ascents. 7 mins to the bottom, 13 to the top. Total distance: 16kms (ish). Butt wet from sweat again.

I returned home and thankfully, my legs didn´t ache like last time. They didn´t even complain much. I suspect they´re up to something. Probably my butt! Ha ha!

Total distance: 27.8km

Busting a Gut

2009-10-08T20:02:00.001-07:00

Sunday was my wonderful rest day and was also the day the gales, rain and hail moved in. The seasonal weather continued through Monday and Tuesday so by Wednesday I was ready for the sun to come out, and training to resume.

The Gutbuster´s an annual walk / run around the perimeter of Karori Wildlife Sanctuary. Although I´d previously walked it, I´d never run it and I could remember some tough hills and as ever, I wasn´t inclined to do the inclines!! As the sun had returned and the storm warning had been lifted, I decided today was the day.

I drove to the sanctuary carpark - the lowest point of the track, and headed off along the winding path, over the creek and up into the trees, occasionally running alongside the fence, other times in bush. My pace was excellent - felt really comfortable and strong. I reached the summit (wind turbine) and launched myself back down the other side, returning to the carpark 1hr15mins after setting off.

I was delighted and a little surprised. The huge hills I remembered had come and gone comparatively easily, and there was only one area of the track that was steep enough to require me to gingerly pick my way down (ironically on the way up to the turbine!) and then I was back at the car, feeling a little ´was that it´?

Having subsequently looked at the race results, admittedly first person home was 30mins ahead of me but I´d come about 13th in the Open Women´s division: 3 days rest does wonders!

Total distance: 11.8km

Crushing the Cilometres

2009-10-05T23:26:00.000-07:00

Saturday. Him indoors had to go to work. Southerly storms, hail and gales were due that night and Sunday, so today was the day for me to get out and crush the big kilometres (BWHAHAHAHA!)

Heading off from Eastbourne at 8.30am I climbed up by the bus depot and then dropped down into the Butterfly Creek loop, before heading up to Mt Hawtrey, onto Mt. Lowry and eventually out to the Wainui Hill Road lookout. Stopping to take stock of the view (I come along the hills in the beginning of the footage) and how far I´d come (3hrs) I was pretty pleased with my effort thus far.

The terrain was tough and rooty, boggy in some areas with occasional boardwalks to take you over the worst of it. There are a few - but very few - sections that are flat, but plenty of steep undulations.

Turning back to retrace my steps, I patted myself on the back feeling that this whole Kepler thing might actually be achievable - though well aware a lot of what I was doing was walking, rather than running.

As the run wore on, the distance to Mt Lowry seemed much further. Then the turn off to Mt Hawtrey took forever. Finally reaching the main ridgeline I turned off, not recognising much of it as I´d only covered it in the opposite direction, having always made the return trip via the coast road.

Although the path is well marked with orange circles, and I´d walked the path a number of times previously, I hadn´t noted that the path actually turns back on itself, doing a 180degree change of direction, with a (pink) possum trackers marker and blue (unknown) path heading off in the apex of the bend. 10m ago I´d seen an orange marker, couldn´t see any others but the path obvious headed off down this track... got about 10m along it and then started to have major doubts. Back tracked to the path and to the last orange marker... and then the panic started to rise.

I came from this direction....didn´t I? I want to head in this direction... don´t I? I didn´t come up that path... did I? Where was the next orange marker? It can´t be that one - it´s going in the wrong direction. Or did I come down this path? I made my way back along the path I was most sure I´d come down and then decided it was ridiculous to panic, I was on a marked path, I just needed to stick with the orange markers - worst case scenario I´d end up at Mt Lowry again.

So turning around, I followed the path around the corner to next marker, ensured I could see the one after that and headed for it. Continued for another 100m and almost sat down and cried in sheer terror - I could see out between the trees, and I was so high up and far away from where I needed to be, I couldn´t be on the right path. I thought about making a panicked phone call, but the advice I´d be given would be ¨stay on the path and continue downhill¨ - which is exactly what I did and within another 100m started recognising some of the terrain.

The relief!

There´s an annual night time run that goes through this area, where 2 competitors ended up doing a 2hr detour down a possum trackers path, having lost the ¨clearly marked¨ path. Every year people get lost, injured / and or die in NZ bush. Admittedly it´s not normally so close to major urban centres, but the bush is so dense, it´s so easy to get turned around and start heading down the wrong path.

I almost celebrated as I got back onto the Butterfly Creek loop happily skipped along it aware I was almost done.

As I exited the bush, I walked into the beginning of the gales - waves breaking over the road and sand being blown off the beach. After 6hr15mins was very glad to get back to the car having consumed my 2lts of water (I´d sweated so much, my butt was wet!!) and most of my food.

I was tired and my feet were sore, but those were the sole (!!) complaints. I´d covered some very tough terrain and was pleased with the time I´d done. The concern was that I´d have to double the time taken - as after returning home and plotting the route, it worked out at just over 27km. However again most of that was a guess, based on mapmyrun.com´s ad hoc plotting of paths (that don´t even match the satellite imagery).

I still have a long way to go - when I got the Wainui lookout at the 3 hour turn around mark, I didn´t really want to continue on for another hour (and not just because I´d run out of known territory).

2 weeks until my 65km pre-Kepler run.

Total distance: 51.1km
Plus: 1000s of floors climbed.

Is that a slab or flab of abs?

2009-10-05T22:05:00.000-07:00

Friday, wanting to ensure I got all my abdominal work in, I headed to Bodyworks, spent 1hr45mins on the stepper again, put in some sprint work on the bike (trying to get my pulse rate up without putting any resistance on) and, as a sweat pool on legs, moved over to the mats.

The static abdominal work I´m doing isn´t particularly tiring in the usual way a muscle gets tired after you´ve repeatedly lifted a weight - they doesn´t ache, but they sure as heck let you know they´re working and after a while just stop resulting in a graceful, if somewhat ungainly, collapse. It´s as much a mental workout: am I balanced? Am I moving? Am I maintaining the correct position throughout? Or more usually, which ways have I found to cheat? To the latter question, the answer is ´all of them´.

Returning to the hills

2009-10-01T14:41:00.000-07:00

Energised and enthused after Wednesday´s stairing competition (!!), I decided that Thursday was the day to take on the advice of the pros, and do some serious hill returns.

From the comfort of my kitchen, I decided that 10 returns on the toughest local hill would be fantastic training and proof of my burgeoning fitness.

Although I measured the hill (via mapmyrun.com) and found it was a kilometre in length, I forgot:

a) the 3km+ run to the start
b) the 2hrs I´d done on the stepper on Wednesday
c) that 1km up = 1km down and 10 x returns = 20km
d) it was really really steep

I arrived at the top (trees on the horizon in the photo) and started my first descent. It was a long winding way down, quite wet and quite a worn rutted track where water had washed clay and soil away, leaving just the base rock.

I arrived at the bottom, to see a family of Paradise Shelducks (with 8 ducklings - it must be spring [¨or a Chinese restaurant¨ to quote my other half]) making their way across the creek and wondered if I wasn´t just chasing the same group across the hills!

Turning my face skywards, I started power walking back up the track and by the time I´d got half way up, decided that 10 returns had been a bit optimistic and maybe 5 would be better. Arrived at the top, drenched in sweat, hands on hips, tagged the farm fence and went back down for round two.

By the time I got to the bottom I had recovered, and high tailed it back up. Half way up again, I tried more self-negotiations, deciding that a kilometre was a hell of a long hill return and although I was keeping going, I was stuffed. Arrived at the top again and this time the turn around was much slower, as was the descent.

Arrived back at the bottom with breath back and legs feeling strong, but the ascent was slower, harder and even more laborious. Arrived at the top - finally - and decided that 3 x returns was sufficient for day one, before trotting onwards towards the top of Johnson´s Hill.

As per my training for Taupo last year, I run out of ¨lungs before legs¨ which basically means I´ve strong legs, but my fitness doesn´t keep up with them. I need a breather - just a few seconds - before being able to continue, which I do comfortably. It seems rather contrary as I recover so quickly, and yet it´s my fitness that´s (mostly) lacking.

I returned home, 2.5hrs and 14kms later. I´d detoured on the way home to add a couple of extra kms in (doesn´t that say something about my fitness??), but it was a combination of running the downhills, my ¨multisport shuffle¨ on the flat and a brisk walk on the uphills.

Interestingly (and despite what I said earlier about running out of lungs before legs) when I got home my legs ached in a way they hadn´t done since I crossed the line at the end of the C2C mountain run. Not as painfully, but of that ilk. I hate to say it, but I think I´ll be chasing that family of ducks up and down that track plenty more between now and Dec 5th.

I am.... the Stair Master

2009-09-30T22:14:00.000-07:00

One of the joys of being a gym member, is that when it is raining outside, it´s not inside. And when the paths are slippery and muddy after 3 days of continuous rain, the machines at the gym remain dry, clean and ready for you to thrash yourself on, most hours of the day.

Monday it had rained most of the day - bar a brief hour and a half when I´d snuck a gentle stroll in (got to see some ducklings waddle across the path / creek). Tuesday it rained in the evening. Wednesday, the rain continued. Having slid my way around minor tracks on Monday, and stuck to the major tracks on Tuesday, Wednesday was just heading for an increase in the waterlogged ridiculousness.

Bodyworks though, welcomed me with open arms - well, sliding door anyway - and I spent 2hours (yes, 2 hours!) working out on one of their four Stair Masters.

By climbing (stepping) umpteen hundred flights and several thousand metres, I was able to work (predominantly) my quads and glutes, while covering my (very fashionable) gym gear, the stepper, and surrounding area in sweat (yes I did use a towel).

While I was trying to work out why the chap on the rowing machine opposite me looked just like the guy off the heat pump ad (Ed´s note - that would be Stephen Fleming), I noted that under the machine´s health warning, aside from talking to your doctor prior to undertaking any exercise, it also said to stop if you felt dizzy or out of breath. Given that my heart rate was averaging 170+bpm, perhaps I should have consulted a doctor before starting!

And despite starting the day with a post-birthday hangover, I defy anyone to find any traces of alcohol in my system after that work out (no testing the contents of the towel though!)

Fashion through the fields

2009-09-29T23:09:00.000-07:00

My beloved other half has commented a number of times on the state of my work out attire - predominantly baggy XXL t-shirts paired with (now) oversized shorts. I´ve never really been someone who worries about what she looks like at the gym as I´m there to work hard, not worry about what other people are thinking.

However, now that I´m training more often and ideally harder, for longer most of my gear is either a) causing chaffing, b) retains sweat and just gets heavier and colder or c) in the wash.

What I´m trying to explain / justify is for my birthday yesterday, best beloved bought me some Icebreaker trail running tops.

I have what some would call a pathological love of Icebreaker - both the product and the company (I´ve applied for umpteen jobs with them!) and I own vast tracts of the stuff - different weights, different products and was even going to apply for sponsorship for the event to them, but given that a brief thumb through their catalogue, they´ve got Gorden ¨twice Coast-to-Coast winner¨ Walker modelling for them, I suspect their athlete sponsorship budget might be taken!

Wearing one of my beaut new tops (fuchsia!!), I headed off onto the hills, well aware that in case of emergency it, and my similarly coloured face, would easily be visible. I even found a new path heading down from the top of Johnson´s Hill to the Karori Cemetery.

The top was excellent but the run wasn´t - my left ankle´s hurting each time I push off. Serves me right for training on my birthday. Fortunately the rest of the day was taken up with suitably festive activities that of course completely conflicted with training requirements. Birthday´s are excellent.

Total distance: 9.3km

Sponsor me here and rest assured it´ll all go to CCF and not more gym gear.

Turning the tables

2009-09-26T23:21:00.000-07:00

Many memories of my formative years involve me (and the rest of my family) being dragged unwillingly on walks by Mum. Whether it be a gentle walk over the rolling English downs, or up a mountain bribed by chocolate bars every 100ms, Mum ignored the winging and moaning and took the family with her. Now eligible for a pension, she still regularly walks significant distances if she´s not spending the day in the garden, pruning, weed whacking and trying to tame her 3.5 acre section.

Keen to turn the tables, I invited her out on one of my long training sessions and, with trepidation on her part, she accepted.

We headed over to Eastbourne, and heading up one of the steeper routes (by the bus terminal), to the ridge line, and marched North-ish, talking, weeding (noxious weeds only - no beech seedlings eh mum?!), panting and just occasionally stopping for a breather.

Mum isn´t so good at going up hills, but down hills she´s a demon so we complemented each other well - I waited for her, she waited for me - we both complained we weren´t fit enough.

The hike up Mt. Hawtrey was still tough, winding and steep but it was great to walk it with someone else who looked at the view and spotted the summit markers, both of which I´d previously missed in favour of covering as much of the path as fast as possible (a technique called ¨head down, bum up¨).

After 3hrs or so, Mum had had enough and we headed back down to the road, and back to the car. 4hrs and 15.5kms, so not hugely long / far, especially as 5kms of that was on the road. However, it was wonderful to walk it with someone so talented, intelligent and gorgeous (and I might yet weasel [another] birthday present for Tuesday).

Total distance for the week: 51.4km.

A week in review

2009-09-23T14:11:00.000-07:00

After my mammoth return to training on Sunday, Monday dawned stiff and blistered, so I headed down to Bodyworks to do a light weights session with new physio core strength exercises (but mainly so I could let myself have a day to recover!) Had planned to reward my efforts with a lounge in the spa but it was closed for maintenance. Sulked and sat in the sauna instead (oh it´s a tough life!)

Tuesday was the start of my 2hr / 10 - 12km run regime and still stiff from the weekend, I trotted up to the hill tops, out to Makara Hill Rd and back again. Spot on 2hrs and 11.8kms so it was a very gentle run, and I didn´t even spook the bunny wabbit I saw, but did manage to find my legs - i.e. felt much more comfortable than I had in ages.

Wednesday I ran down to Bodyworks, via Tinakori Hill. Aiming for 2hours, I ran back and forth, up and down, zigged and zagged (as you can see from the map), but still only managed to make it to 1hr20mins and 9km. More core strength training and plenty of stretching on their mats (yes, lying down on the mat with my eyes closed does count).

Walked home because it´s good for me.

For a brief moment during yesterday´s run I thought I´d actually got some more spring in my legs at the start of stair climbing section ... however by the time I got to the 3rd flight, normal pace had resumed. Ran up to the hill tops, via the old farm, to the top of the Ngaio fire break and back down. A staggering 10.77kms.

Think mapmyrun.com should have an ¨I stopped to admire the view (no I wasn´t resting)¨ marker as it would be well used.

Today, dear diary, I was a lard arse and, post final (hurrah!) physio appointment, only spent an hour and a half at Bodyworks, on my extended arm / back / shoulders session, and my ever increasing core strength session (¨you´re a tall girl. And a heavy girl. Core exercises are especially important for you¨. Fortunately, I knew how to take this as Libby´s been a friend for 10yrs now and, unlike enemies who will stab you in the back, true friends will stab you in the front).

I must admit I´m exhausted. It´s 5.45pm and going to bed doesn´t seem entirely unreasonable especially as I´ve got another long run this weekend. However as Libby informed me, it´s only 9 weeks to go (she´s treating another Kepler entrant who can hardly walk at the moment - thank heavens for small mercies, eh?) and I´ve signed myself up for a 65km ¨fun¨ ultra run (just locally) in mid October, so I can see how training´s progressing. 2 weeks to go until that. Who needs motivation!!?

Total distance: 35.9km

Returning with hiss and a roar

2009-09-17T00:26:00.001-07:00

Having had an enforced week off training, the physio begrudgingly told me I could either do a short flat ran or a walk on the weekend.

Given than there´s not much flat trail running around Wellington (by it´s very nature it tends to be at least undulating), I loaded up my pack with 90% of the compulsory gear (short only the gloves and waterproof leggings), plus fluid (2lt water) and fuel (bananas and muesli bars) and headed out, aiming for a + 5hour walk and or a minimum of 30kms. (Ed´s note - I´m sure the physio was thinking of this sort of distance when she ok´d the walk!)

Heading into Wilton bush on a gorgeous blue sky Wellington day (Ed´s note - a direct response to the volume of wet and cold weather gear carried), I headed to the top of Johnson´s Hill, passing picnickers and other walkers out enjoying the sun, before heading through a couple of farm gates and down the steep farm track on reverse yellow brick road walk. Rabbits and falcons, cows and magpies observed my gentle trot down the hill, and brisk, heavy-breathing ascent on the other side.

Connecting up with the Ngaio firebreak an hour later, I joined the crowds on the Skyline walkway, walking, taking photos, mountain biking, running and making the most of a stunner of a day.

Made it to Kaukau and headed over the other side, and out towards Makara on some previously unwalked (by me) terrain. I had no idea how many paths there were out there - according to another fellow speed walker, you can follow the paths all the way out to Paramata, and then along the coast up to Levin. Maybe next weekend.

The path undulated past an old dam, between hills, above expanding suburbs (Broadmeadows? Johnsonville?) and eventually out to the main route through to Makara - I was on the Old Coach Road through to Porirua.

Where the trail met tarmac, I turned round (Ed´s note - avoid Porirua at all costs) and headed back up to Kaukau again, across the hill tops, down the Ngaio firebreak, through Wilton bush and home - exactly 6hrs later with 32kms under my belt.

I´d really pushed myself and the feet were hurting - but the only part of me that was. Yes there was general fatigue, and my hips and glutes felt that they´d done more work in the last 6hrs than they had in the last 36yrs, but the back was fine and I was delighted to have taken a full pack, over some very hilly terrain and made it over the 30km mark.

Hope is springing again!

Enforced rest = major training incentive

2009-09-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

By combining hours of lethargically sitting in front of the laptop with my vigorous run training, I´ve managed to sprain my back. I wish I could say it was some highly aerobatic maneuver that caused the twinge, but unfortunately it was just relaxed back and stomach muscles leaping into action and working hard for several hours.

Yes, I know there is an obvious answer but quitting isn´t it (still waiting for the medical or psychiatric advice before that happens).

The physio (who´s trained for the Kepler [over trained and ended up with a fractured ankle]) waved my mother´s finger (Ed´s note - that´s the physio seen here in finger-waving action, not my mother), saying ¨take it easy - no vacuuming or making beds so definitely no running or gyming¨. Also I´m to avoid sitting down too which makes driving, typing and toilet stops interesting!

For her training she was doing 12km / day with a 5hr run on the weekend. For a year. There seems to be a recurring theme here - namely lots more training. At least I´m resting on medical advice rather than being honest about the lazy slob I am!

Another physio appointment tomorrow and theoretically I should be back on track after that.

So whilst I´m recovering, I´ve been researching again what I´m in for, and it´s still hugely scary. Photos, video footage and blog sites all recount a great, but hugely tough experience. Apparently most people hit the wall at about 40kms, and from then onwards its a matter of who´s done the training... i.e. (as previously mentioned), needing to be on your feet for the length of time you expect to take.

As the sense of panic arises (all bloggers seem to be real runners i.e. 4hr marathoners and people who reckon 8hrs is an average time to get through it), I have to remind myself that I have time to get fitter and faster and I just want to complete it: if it takes 12 hours, it takes 12 hours. Anything quicker is just a bonus.

I´ve confirmed that it is actually 60km, rather than 67kms (not that it makes much difference) and there is a cut off - I need to reach Rainbow Reach (circa 50km) in under 10hrs otherwise I might be withdrawn - so an average of 5kph. Currently (over my longer runs) I should do it, though it might be a bit close, given the 2km height gain in the first 30kms. In a strange conflicted way, I´ve never wanted to train so much in my life!

Someone change the music - puleeze!

2009-09-11T15:10:00.000-07:00

This week´s been not the best training week ever. Somewhat demoralised by last Sunday´s run with the big guns, not to mention another 3 job rejections, it´s hard work getting out, doing something I don´t particularly enjoy with little improvement, sense of achievement or even an indication that the goal can be achieved.

I guess this is one of the ¨lows¨.

Rest assured I know:

If it was easy, everyone would be doing it
That´s why it´s called a ¨challenge¨
It´s another fine mess I´ve got myself into.

I went to Bodyworks on Monday morning and put in a short upper body weights session, followed by a desolate walk home (Ed´s note - Good Lord! Press play for suitable soundtrack ) to
stretch out the sore legs, and then did the same on Thursday with a more extensive upper body session, but followed this with a more extensive core strengthening session.

Friday morning though, finger was duly removed and I went around to Eastbourne, ran up to the hill tops and along the ridgeline to Mt. Lowry before dropping back down to the coast road. Spot the orange route marker in the photo!

It was tough - some very steep semi-scrambling climbs and some careful descents, lots of hopping (read: stumbling) over roots, and plenty of stops for photos and working out where I was (officially this route doesn´t exist - runs over Mt Hawtrey). Ran some hills, walked some flats, took some photos, ate a banana and had a good reminder why I wear leggings normally and not shorts (chaffing!)

It was nigh on 3hrs when I made it back to the car - and only 12kms. IM said it ¨would probably be a shortish weekend run or a good weeknight run¨ and that ¨the hills are fairly typical of our runs.¨

I´m just going to stop talking to him!

Total: 3.4km walk, 12km run.

That music link alone is worth a donation! Click here to do your worst. Or there´ll be more!

The Learning Curve Just Went Exponential

2009-09-06T18:50:00.000-07:00

Some people like to take on small challenges, gradually building, step-by-step, towards an eventual goal that they are content to quietly achieve.

As you´ll know by now, my philosophy is a bit more ¨boots and all¨ and ¨in for a penny, in for a pound¨ and so I found myself early (8.30am) on Sunday morning, at the road end in Eastbourne with Ironman and a few of his runner friends, who were off for a ¨cruisy¨ run with only three small hills. They estimated about 2.5hrs so it fitted within my achievable run range.

My intention was just to keep up. On the flat. No heroics. No injuries. Just complete the run with them.

The first indication that I might be in trouble was discussion in the car on the way there, with a comment along the lines of - ¨I don´t drink so I can go running early on Sunday morning¨ This sounded odd, as it sounded like a preference to go for a run, rather than to have a drink. Obviously I´d much rather have a drink than run - indeed the only reason I´m not drinking is to physically enable me to be able to run - necessity rather than choice.

2nd indicator - when I mentioned I´d done the run section of the Coast to Coast (C2C), there was no ´wow´ or even an ´oh really´. Just a ´how did you go in that?´

3rd indicator - I had a pack full of gear (hat, survival blanket, mostly full hydration pack), gel and 2 x bananas. They had just a small reservoir of water - 1 x water bottle in one case.

So we set off. It was cold and dark in the shade of the cliffs as headed off around the coast. For about the 1st 100m we were running together and then they just started to pull away. It was strange to watch - I matched their gait, and still they pulled away. They joked and talked between themselves. I huffed and puffed, waiting to feel warmed up. They included me in the conversation (damn them!) and took turns to run with me, half the group waiting until we caught up, but by the time we reached the first hill (6.5km) they were about 500m ahead of me and disappearing off into the distance.

Somewhere in the first 5km, IM gave me a bit more information on the athletic career of those I was running with. Amongst them was a chap (3K) who´d done the 1 day C2C and 3 x Kepler Challenges (all sub 7hrs), and someone who´d done the Marathon de Sables (MDS). Wisely he´d kept this info until I was actually doing the run.

They duly waited for me at Pencarrow Lighthouse, before we all headed off, down a bluff (10min wait for them as I gingerly edged my way down), around the lake and up to the top of the hill (20min wait).

At this point, I was stuffed. I hadn´t felt comfortable the entire run - lousy even for me - and the brain was having trouble computing how they could run that fast while making it look so easy.

After their 20min wait, there was a gentle suggestion that I take the track back to the coast road as they were going to go on around the 2nd lake. Sounded like a fabulous option for all of us!

I reached the coast road, and powerwalked to the car as fast as possible. My plan when they caught up with me, was to run with the pack (at their pace) back to the car, so the powerwalk was as brisk as possible.

3K was the first to catch me, followed by IM though the others were close behind - and the last 2kms (phew!) back to the car were hard and I know I sounded pornographic with my heavy breathing whilst they were still chatting.

Needless to say an (unsurprisingly) disappointing run but was pretty pleased not to have been abandoned or derided.

Total time: 2hr45min
Total kms (for me): 19km
Week´s total: 55.79km

However, I learned VOLUMES which I guess was key to the reason I went.

I´ve always found it hard not knowing how many kms I´ve covered. This is the norm apparently, but as they generally know how fast they cover (e.g.) a marathon (say 4hrs) if they´ve been out for 2hrs, they´ve probably covered 20kms.

Following on from the above, their gait doesn´t tend to drop for the terrain so their speed is consistent. If they´re running further than anticipated, they´re just more tired at the end - no slower!

3K recommended I practice power walking up steep hills as this builds strength. All the hills in the Kepler are over in the first 30kms, though the next 33km ¨tickles a bit¨.

MDS queried what standard the runners were who posted their schedules on Kepler website. I admitted it wasn´t something that the schedules revealed. MDS said that when he was training for ultra-distance, he was running a minimum of 2 hours a day with 5hr run on weekend. ¨But you´re only going to get the benefit of a 2hour run when you´re fit¨. I didn´t follow this bit of logic, but suspect my brain was still reeling from the volume of training he was suggesting.

The general consensus was that I need to practice being on my feet for the length of time I expect it to take. I´ve currently put myself down for 11hours, though as I´ve no real idea, I reckon the earlier they let me leave [they stagger the start depending on how long you think it´ll take] the sooner I finish. Yep more female logic!

They were all very friendly and encouraging, if dauntingly good (though coming from me, I suspect I´m damning them with my faint praise!) Final bit of encouragement I got was ¨when you´re fit, you´ll find it much easier¨. But I am fit....

Click here to sponsor me now! $1 per km or $1 per sore muscle - your choice!

Look at that blubber fly!

2009-09-06T17:28:00.000-07:00

Thursday morning I walked into town, worked out at Bodyworks (legs), and did my new set of core exercises. Although I can complete them all I´m sure similarities could be drawn between my mid-hold posture and the jelly on this wobbling machine. I´m not likely to be getting anywhere near the ´advanced´ positions (you want me to hold this position and now raise a foot? Did you want to see sweaty jelly collapsed on the floor?) any time soon.

Walked home again via Tinakori Hill´s steep tracks.

Exhausted after the return to a week´s full training, I was very glad to have a rest day Friday. Sadly this didn´t incorporate massages, Fiji sun or any blue drinks but just damn nice to know I didn´t have to do anything - the body was delighted.

Today´s total: 7km walk
Week´s total: 36.79 km

Fartleking around

2009-09-01T14:57:00.000-07:00

Still aching from Monday´s run, I went to Bodyworks on Tuesday morning and worked the upper torso (dratted left shoulder still playing up - might actually have to do something about it, other than ignoring it). I followed this up with a 30min sit in their wonderful spa. Glorious stuff! Felt almost human after it.

Decided to take the Ironman´s (IM) training suggestion by the horns, combine it with a little of Runner´s World´s (RW) recommendations and do some sprint training. IM suggested I sprint flat out for 5kms. RW was much less intimidating (and hence much more likely I´d actually do it!) and suggested ¨fartlek-ing¨ - which even with a name like that, sounded much more encouraging than IM´s ¨run till you puke¨.

Heading down to Wilton bush, I used the 1km relatively flat track along the bottom to run, sprint for 50 paces then jog / walk. And repeat. Lots.

Much to the entertainment / curiosity of other track walkers I repeatedly passed, few could understand why I had hands on hips, was sucking in oxygen and drenched in sweat when I was just walking.

Turns out that my form is excellent when I run at pace - except my glutes which go completely off-line and my soleus starts letting me know it´s there.

Two thoughts for the day:

I can´t control how fast everyone else runs, but only how fast I run.
If at first I don´t succeed, I´ll just remove all evidence that I tried.

Walked into town to meet him indoors as he left work, and walked home with him - an easy way of adding an extra 8km onto the tally.

Today´s total: 7.4kms (sprint training) + 8km walk
Week´s total: 29.79km

Counting the days

2009-08-31T18:27:00.000-07:00

Despite Monday´s huge run / walk and success in knocking 15mins off my time, I´m well aware that I´ve 4 times the distance to cover and given how tired I was, really wondering whether I can do this.

It´s 60kms for expletives sake.

And although, being the 2nd day of spring, I have a whole season to train for it, that´s only 90ish days. It´s not like I can go out and run 20km tomorrow, 30km Friday, 50km on Saturday and round it off with 60kms on Sunday.

Given it´s 12 weeks away, a 5km increase per week would make it achievable, give or take the last week of taper. BUT the leap between my 15km effort and 25km in a fortnight´s time is HUGE. Let alone 35km in a month.

Fortunately there doesn´t seem to be a cut off time, though Tail-End Charlie and I might get to know each other very well.

A very rude awakening

2009-08-31T02:23:00.001-07:00

In the excitement of my research (read: procrastination) I found the perfect article which says that walking up the hills and running the rest is a legitimate technique and can actually work out faster.

The idea is that when you´re walking uphill, you´re resting, letting your heart rate drop so when you do start running (flat and downhills) you can take it faster. Having said that, it´s not a gentle jaunt up the hills, but arm pumping, power walking. Righty-ho.

So I headed off, (much to my surprise!), late on Monday afternoon to run / walk my 15km circuit, to see whether running / walking would make any difference - and how much damage I´d done to the body in Fiji.

When I made it up to the fire break (elevation of 420m), although I had walked most of it thus far, I was really querying whether the walking was meant to lower my heart rate - I´m sure I was working harder than when I was running.

I pushed as hard as I could on the uphills, and ran the downhills and flats, not stopping for photos (or to suck my lungs back in) and did my utmost to beat my previous time of 2hrs45mins for the 14.39kms (average of 5.23kph).

Being decidedly soggy, some of the terrain had changed with careful route picking and multiple stream crossings were required in some areas.

And arrived back home, exhausted and aching, 15mins earlier than I had last time (averaging 5.75kph) but having worked much harder.

The high point of the Challenge is 1400m. I´d made it to 440m. And there´s a total of 15kms of uphill too. Who´s stupid idea was this thing?

Total distance: 14.39km
Total elevation: 440m

Post holiday slump

2009-08-30T15:39:00.000-07:00

As you can imagine, returning to gale force winds and floods (but fortunately missing the earthquake) was a bit of a rude awakening as we wafted in to Wellington airport in our post-Fijian state. We walked slower and talked less and sleeping was high on the priority when we got home and turning on the radio or television seemed an affront to our zen-like calmness we´d been cultivating over the past 6 days.

There may have been a little bit of duty free consumed and a few parties attended whilst we were away which only compounded the atrophying of my muscles.

Lord only knows how I´m going to get back into training.

I have under 13 weeks to go. I am now officially on the wagon - both booze and junk food wise.

I have also been trawling various websites (what else do you do when you´re procrastinating?) to get some motivational tips. Found a number of great posts - 2 of which (on getting through training slumps and motivation) I´ve included here. Hence forth will be using some of these techniques (so I´m not still in the house, in my dressing gown at 1pm!)

To summarise their salient, thought provoking articles into a few measly bullet points:

Doing some is better than none. So rather than me sitting here thinking how much a 3 hour run is going to hurt, I could just go out and do a much more pleasant 1 hour run (Ed´s note - apologies for the careless use of ¨pleasant¨ and ¨1 hour run¨ in the same sentence).

Keep a track record of how far you´ve run each week to spur you on.

Walking briskly can help you get there faster. (Ed´s note - let me guess you read it on the internet so it must be true?)

The last point sounds like an excellent way of getting out of running the hard bits whilst doing the flats and downs i.e. my kind of training.

Editor´s message

2009-08-21T23:55:00.000-07:00

Thanks for popping past. Eleanor is currently unable to take your comments as she away from her blog. In her absence, please consider the attached.

Yes, she knew you´d say that. And all requests for duty free have already been exhausted.

Love

Editor.

Gym buddies

2009-08-20T17:04:00.000-07:00

I spent Wednesday morning working on lower leg strength at Bodyworks, and followed it up by a strenuous 30min sauna. Excellent stuff.

I love the fact that all ages and body shapes are regular users of the gym. Serious body builders, sports teams, senior citizens (some who are embarrassingly lifting more weight than me!), new mums, Olympic athletes, plus those who are having a huge lifestyle change - one friend in particular who must have lost half his body weight. Damn impressive.

Given that everyone was doing so well at the gym, meant that on a gorgeous blue-sky Wellington day like yesterday, I skipped the run and spent 5 hours gardening instead. Female logic continues.

Good news & an Ironman (groan) training suggestion

2009-08-18T18:41:00.000-07:00

I discussed my exhaustion v. quick recovery with my Ironman friend last night. He said (and I quote) ¨try doing some short fast events like the Tuesday night 5km races on the waterfront. They may not suit you, they hurt and make you want to puke but they're over in a flash and the pace really teaches your body to handle high intensity and faster leg cadence.¨ Surprisingly, he´s not in sales.

Also briefly discussed the Kepler Challenge itself with another friend, who´s not done it, but runs with someone who has. Apparently it´s a nice easy path and not the boulder hopping, river crossing bucket-of-fun that the Coast to Coast was. Having had a look at these photos though, I might need to work on my vertigo too!

On an even better note, having had a detailed look at the training schedules on the Kepler website, although all 4 of them are supplied by competitors who finished the race in under 8hours (so are fast runners who know what they´re doing), none of their training schedules start until next week, and I´ve already got several weeks under my belt. So I´ll go to Fiji to celebrate!

Return to Butterfly Creek

2009-08-18T17:08:00.000-07:00

Monday I was back at Bodyworks, doing my extra long (back and arm) upper body weights session. Seem to have a left rotator cuff issue too, aggravated by shoulder presses. Oh well, add that to the list.

Yesterday I drove out to Eastbourne and ran the Butterfly Creek route again. There were lots of runners and walkers out, including 2 women who were just arriving at the picnic area as I was leaving - and immediately the pressure went on to be at the ridge line before they caught me (who ever said I wasn´t competitive!) I made it, but could hear them coming up behind me (honestly, talking and running uphill?) I note again I was the only one with a pack (Ed´s note - I´m sure that extra 2kgs was the only reason they almost caught you).

On my return to the summit (Victory, pant, pant, is mine!) as there was a clear (if unmarked) path heading off along the ridge line, I decided it must connect with an earlier section of the track (markers 1 and 5 on the map). However, after a km of rapidly deteriorating, gorse-covered track it started heading back down the hill - and away from the sea. Bah humbug. Backtracked and continued down the main path.

Total duration was 1hr30mins, but it was a hard one. It felt like I´d had a major delve into the pinot noir the previous night (I´d only had 2 and they were a lightweight Chateau Cardboard!) My running is uncomfortable, body is tired and wants to stop, but as soon as do, I´m fine: 2 mins later my breathing´s back to normal and pulse rate has dropped and it feels like I haven´t even been for a run at all (just don´t ask me to start again!). I´m working on the theory that if I lose my spare tyres, it´ll be decidedly more pleasant. For me, not to mention other people watching.

Stating the obvious

2009-08-16T21:20:00.000-07:00

I´m basing my training on 3 x 2hr runs / week or about 6 hours up hill and down dale, with additional support and weight training at Bodyworks. Have found over my brief running experience, that my glutes, right soleus and stomach muscles are weak as a my self-discipline when it comes to declining blue cheese so will continue working on these (plus upper body just so that I have arm muscles to pull me through the undergrowth / up the ravine).

Saturday morning, having a 1 hour run to complete (based on my 6hrs running / wk) but exceptionally sore feet from Thursdsay´s efforts, I decided to tackle some steep hills with some brisk walking, as recommended by the Challenge´s website. Parking at the Crofton Downs substation, I walked briskly up the firebreak and was amazed to be at the top within 15mins. It´s such a nicer walk when you haven´t already done a 2km steep run already!

I saw a feral cat, ducks, horses and got rained on. I ran back through a deserted farm - I´m sure there was one there - and was at peace with the world. Sigh. Maybe I just need to do shorter runs!

Toto, I have a feeling we´re not in Kansas any more

2009-08-13T23:17:00.000-07:00

Ever since my wee explore last week, much like Dorothy (Ed´s note - get some fluid into that girl, she´s losing it) I´d been keen to find out where that yellow brick road went and whether I´d actually end up in Oz or merely Makara. If only it wasn´t 5kms of steep hill running to get to the start of it!

I´d returned from the run last week and explored the terrain using Google Earth. There were paths running over those hills that did eventually connect up with the Skyline Walkway. However, the last time the Google Earth satellite flew by NZ it was still a bush covered, Maori ancestral land complete with moas, and ¨here be giants¨ written in script on the brown pages, so nothing was guaranteed.

After a morning of procrastinating like a professional, I headed off out and started heading off up the hills. The weather was significantly better than last week, and with only a t-shirt on my top half I headed upwards, pausing to regroup and take stock (read: suck my lungs back into my chest) at the top of the firebreak above Ngaio.

As I retrieved my camera to take a photo or two, another runner loped past, lean, relaxed and bronzed - and not a day under 60yrs. Alternatively he could have been 30 and just trained like a demon for 20 years. He didn´t even have any water with him! Anyway, I contemplated briefly trying to keep up but as he was heading straight up the hills, rather than sticking to the winding paths and obviously wasn´t going the way I was (otherwise he´d have bought provisions, safety blankets, rations, cellphones, picnic hamper etc) and I let him disappear into the distance.

And then I arrived at the start of the track - see, don´t you just want to know where that goes? - and off I loped like the aforementioned 60yr old.

I wound my way across the quad bike / cattle tracks, scaring a few young cows on the way, startling a falcon into flight and was generally much happier that I was out on a bright sunny day and had a vague idea where the path went this time.

The path wound onwards. There were some pretty steep bluffs around, and several times the path turned back on itself and went directly West, rather than South or East. I reassured myself that I had a minimum of 4 hours daylight, 2 x bananas, 2 x energy gels and 1lt of water left. Not to mention that I was stubborn (so would keep going rather than giving up) and could always find the farm (follow the quad bike tracks) and demand that they either show me the way out or feed me. Or both.

The path gradually wound down the hill, providing two left turns (meaning I was heading in the desired Easterly direction) and I eventually saw the track at the bottom of the ravine which I would use to scale the other side of the valley. Fingers crossed that the path I was on, led there!

A bit of slow work through ¨muddy¨ cattle tracks, a startled cow lurched out from behind a tree (or was that the started runner lurching) and I was at the bottom of the ravine, where much to my surprise there was a creek. Which needed wading through. Probably could have been leapt across but by this time, I´d been running for 2+hrs and leaping was a bit out of the question!

Scaling the other side was a question of mustering my best ¨brisk¨ walk, before finding myself back on the Skyline walkway, looking back over the gully to the hills I´d not an hour ago, been running on, hoping they´d connect up.

The walking continued for another km or so, before I managed to break into a trot and head back into Wilton bush, and back home in time for tea.

3 hours and 15kms. I was delighted I´d managed to overcome my fear of dying in a gully somewhere (Makara probably) and very pleased I´d managed to complete last week´s efforts. A bit daunted however about how sore my feet are and how easily that older gentleman disappeared off over the hills, sans any provisions. Not to mention that within 4 months, I´ve got to do quadruple the distance. All together now, click your heels together three times and say ¨there´s no place like the finish line, there´s no place like the finish line....¨

I got chills... they´re multiplying

2009-08-12T18:05:00.000-07:00

Back at Bodyworks this morning, putting in an upper body weights session whilst studiously ignore my hamstrings which were complaining about the lack of stretching after yesterday´s run.

After years of playing Underwater Hockey, my body knows that when I start exercising, whether it be a gentle stroll, swim, cycle or energetic run it better start sweating as the odds are that it will continue for sometime. Conversely, in preparation for gulping down as much air as possible, my breathing / heartbeat etc comes back down to normal very quickly.

So I sweat lots and recover fast, which means I´m usually cooling down in wet exercise gear, and a decision has to be made whether to stretch respective muscle groups or shower to retain some semblance of body heat. And of course, stretching after the shower starts me sweating again - oh the life of the uber-athlete.

Butterfly Creek

2009-08-11T18:44:00.000-07:00

Deciding that I need to increase my actual quantity of running (Ed´s note - who´d have thought?), I drove around the Wellington harbour to Eastbourne this morning, and hiffed and huffed my way over the hills to Butterfly Creek (refer evidence on the right).

It was much drier than it hand been about a month ago mid-winter (Ed´s note - ditto), so less staggering around with clods of mud on my feet. Having said that, there was still a fair bit of staggering, but I managed to run all the way this time, rather than ¨power¨ walking up some of the steeper sections of track.

When I reached the ridge line for the second time, I headed off up a track that I assumed was going to the lookout, but after 50m decided it was actually another decoy path that I´d have to backtrack over after 5kms of me ¨exploring¨ (that was a 10km lesson I don´t need to learn a second time!)

Oh, and bananas are a great food source for running, but after 2 bites I can´t manage any more and you´re left with a squishy half eaten banana to stuff back in your pack. Ick. Decidedly more biodegradable though and a darn sight cheaper than my beloved Peak Fuel.

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;lt&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;;a &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;href&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;="http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/new-zealand/eastbourne,-wellington/336125005111312472"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Butterfly Creek - 12/8/09&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;lt&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;lt&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;/&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;lt&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;;a &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;href&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;="http://www.mapmyrun.com/find-run/new-zealand/eastbourne,-wellington"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Find more Runs in &amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Eastbourne&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;, Wellington, New Zealand&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;lt&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/span&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

Gifts that keep on giving...

2009-08-10T01:48:00.000-07:00

The joy of having a newish niece (8 months) that I regularly see is that aside from teaching her vital skills like pulling herself upright on tables, jumping up and down on the couch and the art of distraction (if mum´s looking at me banging this spoon, she´ll not notice the fork in my other hand), is that she gives me so much in return - most recently a cold. Sore throat, runny nose, not sleeping at night, etc.

I´ve spent the last 4 days recuperating - sleeping during the day, trying to stay warm and trying to minimise energy expenditure (Ed´s note - isn´t that what most unemployed bums do?).

But today I´m back at it - bouyed by Wellington´s best gym, Bodyworks, agreeing to sponsor me for the during of my training. Having had a look at the token training schedules supplied on the Kepler Challange website, I´m going to be using Bodyworks to train specific some of my wimpy muscle groups which need to be embiggened, but otherwise putting in most of my running on actual tracks (unless it´s raining when that wimpy ¨I don´t want to get wet¨ muscle might kick in).

...and no points to anyone who saw the title and thought I was blogging about Chlamydia.

Irony - like bronzy, only made out of iron

2009-08-09T23:21:00.000-07:00

After my marathon (!!) effort on Wednesday sleep, ridiculously, was in short supply as I spent the night trying to find a position where my legs were elevated, knees weren´t touching, there was no pressure on my back and I could fall asleep, as usual, on my side. My attempts at finding this magic position, resulted in a mangling of sheets, dumping of duvets and him indoors moving to sleep in the other room - who said exercise was good for you?!

Without managing to come up with a better excuse, I found myself bleary eyed at the gym at 8.30am the following morning doing my extensive back and shoulders weights session. This was also followed by 30 mins of brisk walking on the treadmill as much to stretch out the legs as raise the pulse from ¨can I go back to bed?¨ to ¨I need a coffee¨.

Yesterday´s route was something akin to this. Ironically Mt Kaukau return - the route that I decided was too long - was 1km shorter!

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/new-zealand/-wellington/232124989185381928"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;08/10/2009 Getting lost on Wilton Hills&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br/&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/find-run/new-zealand/-wellington"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Find more Runs in Wellington, New Zealand&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

Running to Kaukau.... oh look, a shiny.

2009-08-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

Ever the proficient procrastinator, I managed to leave going for my super-duper extra-long weekend run until Wednesday afternoon.

I emailed him indoors and said I was off on a run to Mt Kaukau (just as a safety precaution), and promptly headed up through Wilton bush and on to the firebreak above Ngaio. However, by the time I got up to the Northern Walkway, I ascertained that Kaukau was far too far away (what is this, my super-duper extra-long weekend run?) and turned left and headed off towards Makara Peak.

All was going well for the first 20mins until I spotted what I thought was a mountain biking track heading off to the West and since I was cutting my super-duper extra-long weekend run short, I might as well explore.

By now it was 2.45pm and it was decidedly windy out on the hill tops. Never fear, I had water, gels, cellphone and woolly hat with me, so I´d be sweet. Snow capped South Island loomed off in the distance, as I followed what was actually a quad bike track across the hill tops.

After 20mins, I was getting a little wary about where I was going. My path was now a cattle track, winding its way across the hill tops and very exposed. It undulated, split into different directions, became little more than a narrow path and was very blustery with the strong southerly doing nothing to keep me warm (but did provide lovely views of South Island). Cloud came over and although I could see the Northern Walkway - my usual running route away to my left, I was moving away from it, with the path leading deceptively towards Makara rather than Karori.

After 40mins of getting increasingly stressed, I decidedly to cut my losses and retrace my steps. When I finally made it back to the official track, I kept an eye on the area where I´d been, to see whether there was any sign paths connected. However, by this stage I wasn´t interested enough to put in another 5km detour, and headed back through Wilton bush to home.

3hrs after I started out, I lay on the couch not feeling 100%. 2 gel shots and plenty of water consumed, woolly hat used, as was the cellphone (¨FYI still out. Was slightly lost, off exploring. Back tract as a bit stressed and f breezy up here. back on main path. Should b home in 45mins ish¨). You´ll note I didn´t mention that I wasn´t anywhere near Kaukau...

Gardening, blue drinks and a time check (aaagh).

2009-08-03T16:29:00.000-07:00

The joy of training in Wellington during winter is the reliable weather - gale force winds (tick), heavy rain warnings (tick), road closures due to slips / gale force winds / heavy rain (tick, tick, tick) with the occasional stunner of a day thrown in when you can actually get out and mow the lawns (tick). That´s a brief summery (ha ha!) of the last few day´s weather, and the reason why I´m sure hoping my gym sponsorship comes through!

I spent Monday (sunny) in the garden, clinging to steep banks with every atom in my body, whilst I planted, weeded, sawed and generally prepared the garden for the ferocious growth spring normally brings. Yesterday´s (strong winds and rain) weights and treadmill session was terrible, probably because the aforementioned atoms hadn´t unlatched and the body was stiff, sluggish and more ungainly than usual.

Also, much to my horror, tomorrow it is 4 months to D-day. That´s a measly 16 wks away. Minus 1 week tapering. Minus another for a sly holiday in Fiji (may have to reduce the blue drink quota this year). So realistically, 14 weeks left. Might have to get and do some [expletive] training.

Eleanor and the Beanpole

2009-07-29T14:31:00.000-07:00

Did my legs session at the gym yesterday morning, and duly killed any semblance of youth, speed or coordination and stumbled around on the treadmill, trying to get my exhausted legs to raise and lower in a predictable up / down manner.

I´ve spoken to a couple of runners - one an Ironman, the other a Kepler Challenge finisher (who beat me round Taupo last year despite being decidedly less fit than me - not that I´m bitter). Neither has had any run training and couldn´t give me any on-the-spot pointers. However the general consensus from both was not to bother asking a beanpole for running advice.

Beanpoles are those individuals who started running about the same time they learnt to stand, who have a body fat of sub 6% (you know I´m talking to you CJ!) and who don´t understand that the plod-plod-plod of the non-runner is their running style and not necessarily reflective of their lack of training. A typical example of their coaching:

Q: ¨I need to increase my running speed.¨
A: ¨So run faster.¨

Technically correct, but not a fat lot of use.

Well to show them all who´s boss, I went for an hour and a quarter´s hill run and refuse to admit that I was shattered after a measly 6.5kms!

&amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/new-zealand/wellington/956843350484"&amp;amp;gt;Wilton&amp;amp;amp;#039;s bush to Johnson&amp;amp;amp;#039;s Hill Reserve return&amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;lt;br/&amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/find-run/new-zealand/wellington"&amp;amp;gt;Find more Runs in Wellington, New Zealand&amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;gt;

Horizontal movement in a lateral way

2009-07-27T19:25:00.000-07:00

Back to the gym today - did my upper body weights and then 30mins on the treadmill. Worked hard at trying to identify what movement is required to actually engage my glutes.

It seems I need to exaggerate my horizontal movement (i.e. moving left to right), which seems a little contradictory in an energy preserving kind of way. I inconspicuously (in a ¨I´m not perving. but just checking out your butt¨ kind of way) stood behind another couple of treadmill runners who seemed to know what they were doing and watched their technique. Didn´t help that they were both male and just seemed to barrel forward, with little movement other than in arms or legs. However, my glutes got a good workout, soleus remained where it should and t-shirt was duly drenched.

Rutting goats

2009-07-27T18:07:00.000-07:00

Him indoors kicked me out for a run on the weekend. I´d got into a deep ¨what´s the point?¨ (WTP) rut, with steep slippery sides, few hand holds, generally sloping upwards... with uneven footing ... and gorse. Trudging along on both the job hunting and training fronts, I´d been to the gym three times during the week, doing both weights and treadmill work but everything else was a huge burden. Something about the unemployed becoming more unemployable....

Anyway, him indoors decided he wanted to sleep in the sun on Sunday afternoon, and no he didn´t want to come for a walk with me and would I please just go for a run. Fine! So off I trudged, struggling through Wilton Bush, up through the pine trees and left towards Makara Peak.

My intention was to jog to the carpark at the bottom of the Peak, but got about half way there, and got overwhelmed by WTP-ness. It was slow, uncomfortable, unmotivated running. I got about half way there, shrugged my shoulders apathetically, and disappointedly I turned round and started back via the mountain biking tracks - actual tracks rather than rock and route hopping trails, and low and behold, actually began to enjoy myself. Actually being able to go at a reasonable pace rather than tiptoe around roots and rocky outcrops count for a whole lot... now just imagine if I could actually run properly!

Ended up heading through the old farmstead and back down via the Flax clearing, rather than the shorter route I´d come up.

I passed a bluff with a young lad (10yrs ish) waving his arms on the top of it, so I stopped to check he was OK. His mate had spotted 3 goats and was off in the bush trying to catch one of them ¨and he was just waving to make sure he [his mate] knew where he had to get back to.¨ They´d cycled past me in the other direction on mountain bikes - I queried how they were going to get the goat home with their bikes - ¨oh, we´ll walk it back¨ he responded. Nothing like the optimism of youth. Not to mention eyesight - I´ve never yet seen a goat up on those hills!

Got back delighted that I´d been, despite my right soleus pulling a bit on the last climb up to the house. Him indoors said he was glad I went as I´m much happier after I´ve been for a run. I think ¨relieved¨ is the word he´s looking for.

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/run/new-zealand/wilton/875124874158838201"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Wilton Bush to hilltops&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br/&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://www.mapmyrun.com/find-run/new-zealand/wilton"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;Find more Runs in Wilton, New Zealand&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

Blurring of the Space / Time continuum

2009-07-21T18:36:00.000-07:00

I´m not sure how I managed to be employed and train for the Coast to Coast. I´m juggling a bit of part time work, actively looking for work, maintaining the house (Ed´s note: note she didn´t say ¨doing housework¨), and very occasionally being a ¨lady that coffees¨ (would have said ¨lunches¨ but unemployment being what it is, I´m saving my pennies!), writing business plans, all while trying to put in strength and sprint training, as well as some decent cardio workouts. I´m putting in some work, but not half as much as I feel I need - since when did being unemployed get so busy??!

I put in a good upperbody weights session on Monday, followed by 30 mins on the treadmill, generating sweat, steam and a few staggers. I did the same again today - lower body weights, but without the treadmill work out. I´m usually pretty good with cooking a healthy meal for us both but for various reasons, it didn´t happen yesterday so we ended up with toast, bowls of muesli and carrots. And guess what - when I got to the treadmill stage of my workout, inclination was buried right at the bottom of the too-hard basket. I figured I´d done as much gym work as I would have done for the C2C, so packing up early was slightly less dire in this instance.

Fast forward... in the slow lane.

2009-07-18T21:42:00.000-07:00

Another week gone and more sprint training under my belt. I´m increasing the speed at which I´m running (to a whopping Level 13!) and reducing the rest time between, so over a 30 minute treadmill session I´m now sprinting for 20mins.

Ideally this will continue until I can sprint for about 6 hours or 60kms (which ever comes first). Points for optimism if not reality.

I went walking with my other half today, and after a 2 hour hill walk, him puffing away (he´s getting back on the fitness wagon after an absence of a couple of months), he challenged me to a race up the hill. Knowing he was exhausted and I´d been training I took him on.... but even going at top speed, he bounded up the hill ahead of me, looking over his shoulder just enough to know if he had to speed up. After about 50m I gave up, frustrated that despite my evident superior fitness I was clearly out-bounded. Stupid sport anyway.

Despite 34yrs of knowing how to (if not actually doing it), I think my running technique needs some major assistance.

And on the second day.... she got really busy

2009-07-14T00:41:00.000-07:00

Rest assured, True Believers, whilst blogging has been somewhat sluggish, training has been anything but.

In between various runs through the Wilton Bush and around the local hill tops, I´m doing what I can to increase my speed - not to mention my maths (60kms at optimistically 6kph = a long day)!

My default run setting is the ¨multisport shuffle¨ - minimum upwards movement, retaining everything else for moving forward - but very slowly. The ¨exhausted runner¨ look would probably be a better way of describing it - only energy expended is in generating a forward movement and that´s about it. Anyway, I start off ¨exhausted¨ and only shuffle slower from there (doesn´t help that it´s mid winter and I´m carrying a kilo of mud on each foot).

As well as getting in some reasonable length runs around the hills (1hr +), I´m lifting weights at the gym and then hitting the treadmill for 30 mins - alternating between running near top speed for 5 minutes, and walking briskly for 5. Not sure how it equates in kph terms, but in treadmill terms, level 6 and 12...and drenched gym attire with the sea pounding in my ears. Who knew 5 minutes was such a long time?!

There´s another chap at the gym, obviously in training too. Spends a lot of time jumping, running and doing a lot of cardio (has pointy cheek bones - i.e. very serious). Anyway, just to prove how serious he is, he wears these ¨ugly as a bucket of vomit¨ shoes. Personally I think it says more about his fashion sense than the effort he´s put in to get those pointy cheek bones!

And on the first day she created... a blog

2009-07-04T20:43:00.000-07:00

The Kepler Challenge. 60kms of mountain running through pristine New Zealand scenery deep in the heart of South Island. Rivers, beech forest, alpine scenery, Hobbits... let me sit back and take in the view..... sigh.

Sorry - did someone say 60kms? Mountain running? And who got up at 6.30am on 4 July to ensure she got one of the 400 spots in this event? (Ed´s note - great questions... still waiting answers myself).

Let me explain / justify / provide some random answers... I completed the team event of the Coast to Coast 2009 in February. The 33km mountain run was the toughest thing I´ve ever done in my life. Admittedly I wasn´t going to win any points for breaking records (the section was won by a whippet, who obviously discovered the short cut and completed the section in 2hrs43ins), but keeping going for 7hrs23mins surely counted for something - if only sheer bloody mindedness.

So having learned nothing from last year´s slog, sweat and general grunting around the Wellington hills, how hard could double the distance be?

However, this time to I´m explaining / justifying / providing some random answers by seeing how much money I can raise for charity - it´d be good to see all my pain and suffering go towards some greater good.

Over the next 5 (agggh!) months I´ll be raising funds for the Child Cancer Foundation, so donate now and help others benefit from my incessant need to get out of my comfort zone.