The Hutt River Trail Ultra Marathon – I survived it, just

Since you’re reading this, and I wrote it, it didn’t die yesterday while running 60kms from the Wairarapa through the Rimutaka mountains and all the way to the Petone foreshore. But it was a near thing.

I was up at 3am to get ready, have breakfast, let my body understand that, yes it is actually awake, and then drive the 15-20 minutes out to Petone. I parked up at the finish line and went and got my race bib. It was all pretty relaxed and low key, with a few other runners hanging around waiting until it was time for the van to leave and take us to the start.

It was already warm, about 17 degrees at 6am. But I kept my extra layers on thinking it would be much cooler at the start. Oh, how wrong I was.

The van ride was actually kind of cool. I was in the back seat with a couple of other guys. It turns out the younger guy was back in NZ (from the UK) to attend some weddings, and the guy in the middle was his high school geography teacher. So they chatted on about people they knew and what they were doing. And then talk turned to running.

The young guy was experienced at this sort of thing, doing 100 milers and such. The teacher was out on his first adventure into ultra running. We talked about motivation, why we do this and what how we thought the day would pan out.

We stopped along the way to pick up some other runners, and then sat back to watch the sun rise through the mist as we drove across the mountains to the start.

The start line was an intersection in the road, in the middle of nowhere, and that was it. Anyone expecting port-a-loos was sadly disappointed. And the lupins growing alongside the road suddenly got a lot of watering.

This was a very old-school race. None of the fancy timing chip stuff here. The time was kept by a little old man with a stopwatch. He was at the start, and at the end, with his little stopwatch ticking the seconds away.

We got our safety briefing – “The are obstacles on the course, go around them. Three, two, one go!”

And we were off!

I tucked into the back of the pack and let the faster runners go. I kept a close eye on my heart rate and kept it under 150, running nice and relaxed as we trotted along the road towards Cross Creek Station - the old railway station on this side of the ranges.

By the time I got there I had two people left behind me – an old man who was fast walking the trail, and a little old woman with dodgy knees who looked to be doing it tough already. I was sure I could beat them.

I stopped at Cross Creek to take off my extra layers. I had been expecting a bit of wind as we hit the valley, but it was dead calm and I was getting a bit hot. The walker passed me then at a pretty fast clip. It took me 12 kms to run him down. That’s how fast he was going.

I carried on up the hill climb, the only big hill climb on the course. It was fun. I felt good. I wasn’t stressing my body. I was sticking to keeping my heart rate low – 150bpm is a sustainable pace for me.

By the time I got to the summit tunnel, which is 800 meters long, the walker was just at the other end. I saw him leave, and when I talked to him later he said he turned back and saw me enter.

I gained the highest part of the course feeling good. It was warmer than I would have liked already, but now came the long downhill, so I was confident that I could keep my current pace and rest a little on the descent.

Again I kept an eye on my heart rate, not letting myself get carried away on the easy running downhill. I caught up with the walker and had a quick chat as I passed. He was a very old-school guy. All he was carrying was a coke bottle filled with water.

I put on a bit of speed, not a lot, just enough to pull away and get some distance between him and me. I now had two people behind me again. I would not come last.
The end of the Rrimutaka Rail Trail passed and I was now running on the road for a bit. Things suddenly got hard, really hard.

I was having difficulty breathing and my heart rate shot up. I was running downhill at a slow pace but it was like I had been sprinting the whole time. I didn’t understand it. I had only run about 20kms and up until a few minutes ago I was feeling good. I wasn’t undernourished or going hard enough to ‘hit the wall’.

So I walked up a hill (I knew there would be another decent hill somewhere) and that’s when the walker caught me up again.

We got to talking as we walked the hill and all thoughts of being able to beat him were dashed. This guy is in his 60s and he had done* 160 ultra marathons and 240 odd marathons*. He’s had a hip replacement, which in his own words, ‘has slowed me down a bit’ and this guy was caning me just by walking! What a legend!

We hit the next section of track – Tunnel Gully, and I lurched into a run to try once again to get some distance on this legend of a man. It was a lovely place to run. In fact most of the track was lovely running.

But by the time we reached the end of that section I had stones in my shoe that were too big to ignore, so I stopped to take them out. I had only gone a minute more and I had to do it again.

The walker passed me as I cleaned out the debris and I never saw him again.

Things were heating up a lot now and I was really struggling to keep a good pace. I started walking more and more as I passed through thesuburb of Maymorn, heading to the river. I was hoping it would be cooler running next to the Hutt river, but I was to be disappointed. It was even hotter.

The next 35 or so kms to the finish was a mix of walking and running and trying to keep from falling asleep. That’s all I wanted to do. In fact I caught myself a few times running with my eyes closed. All I wanted to do was lie down for a bit, just 5 minutes. But if I did that, it would be the end of my race. So I carried on putting on foot (mostly) in front of the other.

There were some really lovely moments on that section of the course that made me smile despite the oppressive heat and the struggle to breathe.

• A mum and her kids out for a bike ride stopped to let me pass and wished me luck
• A group of kids hanging out in a park shouted at me ‘Well done. You’re going great’
• Some bikers stopped at the toilets asked me what distance I was doing, and when I said 60kms they were astonished and told me I was a legend.
• A council worker mowing the grass at the side of the track, stopped work as I approached and waited for me to pass, to make sure I didn’t get showered in freshly cut grass.

I was calling in at the aid stations – and these are not what you might expect for an ultra marathon. They were barebones, just a person and a 20 litre container of water (often in the sun) and some cups. I usually drank a full cup and then poured the next two over my head. I wasn’t concerned about there not being enough left for the other runners. By now there was only one person behind me.

Coming into one aid station at about the 42 km mark (I think) a woman dressed in bright orange stepped out of a car and came towards me. There was no water in sight, so my hopes of a drink and a shower were dashed somewhat.

She looked familiar somehow. It was the little old lady with the dodgy knees. She had pulled out due to her knees, the heat and her stomach just not feeling right. She was waiting to cheer her friend on, who was behind me. In true ultra running fashion, her first words to me were ‘do you need anything?’

She was very sweet and we chatted for a bit before I left. I knew if her friend caught me up there would be a battle on for last place, one that I was bound to lose. So I pushed on as best I could.

The people at the aid stations were nice and friendly and helpful, mostly. I asked as I went along what the temperature was. I was told that is was between 25 and 30 degrees Celcius. Then they helpfully pointed out that it was likely to get hotter the further down the valley I went.

Just what I needed.

So I poured an extra cup of water over my head and carried on. Five minutes later I was already dry.

But the trail was still lovely. And despite the heat and my shortness of breath, I couldn’t help but appreciate what a lovely place it was to be running. I think I have found a good place for my long runs.

I switched my watch to show me the distance covered, and by simple maths, how much was left to run, and then slowly counted down to the finish. I was still walking / jogging trying to get it done as soon as possible so I could lie down and sleep.

I saw the little old lady in orange again about 2kms from the end. That meant her friend was close behind me. I needed to keep moving. I crossed the road and ran into the park that has the finish line - somehwere.

But all my running was done. I just couldn’t go any more. I would force myself into a shuffle, willing my legs, who were not at all complaining much, to do the running thing. But my chest would suddenly heave and I’d be back to walking again. My lungs had had enough and would not play the game. So I walked.

I resolved that as soon as I saw the finish line I would run until I crossed it, no matter what.

I was walking along a raised track trying to spot the building I had parked my car outside of, all those hours ago, when I spied a couple of men in hi-vis vests sitting on deck chairs. In front of them were two road cones – the finish line. I had almost walked past it!

I broke into the best run I could manage, trying to keep a straight line, and focused on the little old man with the stopwatch. The grass was nice and soft to run on and the sun, having beat down on me all day, seemed to relent a little.

I passed between the cones and said ‘Please don’t tell me you are an aid station’ with a grin. They assured me that they were not an aid station, that I had finished and I could sit down and relax. Which I gratefully did.

I was then handed my prize for finishing – a bottle of lukewarm water and a banana. I drank the water and munched slowly through the banana.

I had only eaten about half of it when the little old lady arrived to greet her friend at the finish. He duly arrived looking happy to be there, and displaying more reserves of energy and humour than I had.

I clapped as hard as I could as he crossed the line. It was over. One more ultra under the belt.

I thought about ‘what next?’ as I drove home. I had planned to do another ultra in March. But I need to fix the problems with my lungs first. As I thought things through, I realised this has happened before in pretty much each race – I’m good for the first 30kms or so and then my lungs give out. So that’s what I need to work on.

My legs, although a bit sore, are fine. No worse than after a good long run in training. My feet are fine, a bit tender on the soles from running with stones in my shoes and I have one small blister on the end of one toe. But apart from that, I don’t feel much worse that I would feel after a 30 or 40km long run.

So that’s encouraging. I think if I can fix my lung problems, I’ll be a beast on the trails and can start looking for longer races. But that’s something for another day.

Here are the stats from the run

• Distance: 59.53kms
• Time: 9:18
• Average pace: 9:23 min/km
• Elevation gain: 717m
• Elevation loss: 737m
• Temperature: Upper Hutt: 27 degrees, Lower Hutt – 28.9 degrees
• Humidity: 88%

The temperate values above are from the official Met Service stats. So they are measured off the ground, in the shade with ventilation etc. Out on the trails, in full sun, the temperate would have been at least 5 degrees hotter. No wonder I was finding it hard!

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Check out my stories here on Steemit

Running Deer

Running Deer - part 1
Running Deer - How legends are born

Charlie Rabbit

Meet Charlie Rabbit
Charlie tides up
Charlie Rabbit and Margery Mouse
Charlie Rabbit and Margery Mouse make music

Little Peppers Adventures

Runaway Rabbit and the hungry fox
Maybe and the land of purple rainbows – A Little Peppers adventure
How Pappa Pepper and Monster Truck the Pepper got their wild hogs - a Little Peppers Adeventure

Dark Angel Regiment of the Space Marines - Mission Files

First Squad Sniper Elite - Zaresith mission

Other stories

Stranded
The Lady Of The Lake

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Also don't forget to check out my Dad's blog

Who else can tell you stories about impersonating an officer, stealing a military aircraft to go on a booze run, or steal military aircraft and go on an unsanctioned bombing run - and that's all before he turned 18!

Check out @len.george and find out what other madness he got up to!

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