Olex Bell Block 10km and pre-race rave run (26 December 2010)

Gerry struggling from turkey and wine overload.

Visiting friends in New Plymouth for X-mas (thanks Deon and Henriette!), Gerry and I decided to enter for the Olex Bell Block 10km run. A good way to rid some of the turkey and trifle reserve kilos. And in any case, we’re on a mission to get to marathon fitness level again.

Sharing the path with some other
runners also working off the
X-mas binge.

After some negotiating and marathon-hunting on the internet, Gerry found some lovely runs and decided impromptu to enter for two of them. As we know, nothing like a good challenge to get you out the door for the sometimes "challenging" training sessions. These races – the Dual (on 26 March) and the T42 (held on 7 May) – both seem like exciting scenic runs in the country and are both classified as trail runs. And if we can keep up the training and not get injured, we might sneak in the Mountain to Surf marathon at the beginning of March. Having done this race in 2008, I have a soft spot for the event, which was well presented by very friendly and helpful organizers. They even offered us foreigners a cottage to overnight before the race.

The iconic Big Wave Cafe is a
landmark on the Coastal Walkway.

And so it turned out that for two days all we did was eat and drink wine, eat some more and drink some more wine, and by the morning of Boxing Day we realized that we have to urgently remedy our running regime which was slowly slipping down a sloping path. Part of the planned build-up towards running a marathon in March was to run a 15km event in December, a 21km in January, 32km in February and then the 42.2km in March. Since the Olex is only a 10km run, we had to run five kays either before or after the event. We decided to do an early morning 5km run and then the 10km race in the afternoon, which is not quite the same as 15km in one go, but it’s the thought that counts.

"All of a sudden it hit me - if there was such a thing as composing music, there
could be such a thing as composing motion. After all, there are melodic figures,
why can't there be figures of motion?" - Len Lye

So, off we went to the Coastal Walkway in New Plymouth, a path that runs next to the sea for 10km from Port Taranaki to Hickford Park in Bell Block. We decided to park at the Fitzroy Beach Resort and run to Len Lye’s Wind Wand (or as Billy Connolly puts it “a testicle on a stick”) – a central section with a distance of just over 2.5km one way.  

It was a lovely overcast morning with little wind, and as it turned out we weren’t the only guilt-ridden runners out there. Plenty of other runners, walkers and cyclists enjoy the pleasure of having a scenic path where you can get some fresh air and a wee bit of exercise. We finished the approximately 5.5km in 35 minutes.

Gerry rounding a corner on the
last stretch of our rave run.

The rest of the day went by quickly and fairly uneventful – with some careful eating and snacking: you don’t want to go on empty and you also know from past experiences you’d rather want to forget, that running on a pancake-carbo-load doesn’t work either.

The Olex Bell Block 10km race

Gerry said the numbering system made him feel like a triathlete, except that the number
is on the wrong body part! :)

A large Boxing Day field lining up at the start.

Shortly after five in the afternoon we made our way to Bell Block to pick up our race numbers at the registration desk. After a bit of confusion, it turned our that our names weren’t added to the list, but fortunately the friendly organizer knew about us, saying “oh, you’re the guys from Palmerston North”, which added a bit of a personal touch.

With my entry number on my hand, we lined up together with 400-odd other runners and walkers. I’m amazed at the amount of participants who turned up on Boxing Day with dogs, baby joggers, twin baby joggers, kids, prams, grandma’s and grandpa’s. A very relaxing and festive evening with perfect weather.

One down, nine to go!

Single track section on the
Mangati Walkway.

After the rules were read (shouted!) out to us (the PA system died on the organizers), the lady standing on the hood of a Toyota RAV shouted something along the lines of “okey, GO!” and we were off.

Being right next to the sea is no guarantee for
a flat run.

The first half a kilometer which is mostly downhill, is run in the suburb, after which you turn off onto the Mangati Walkway, a single track path running partially next to a little stream. This is where you hit the first proper hill. It levels out a bit, then a downhill, more uphill and you soon realize that the race is not as flat and fast as you thought it would be. I was keeping an eye out for a race-walker in front of us and was thinking to myself that if only I could stay with him, we should be okey. He was going at a steady fairly fast pace, measured by the sound of my panting. After the morning’s 5.5km run, I was hoping to cover the 10km in less than 70 minutes – a comfortable pace, but not going all out.

Runners making their way up Parklands Avenue.

You reach the first kilometer marker still on the walkway and after about a kay of off-road running, you turn back onto the tar road by the beachfront. Here we reached a significant little hill, which reminded me of the very first running of the Waterfall Mall marathon (2003) near Rustenburg in South Africa: as we reached the first hill, Bruce Fordyce (joined by the actor David Vlok, one of the Gladiator ladies [possibly Fire?] and everybody else who could hang on to their 5 min/km pace at the time), said: “heads down, swing your arms and ‘bytvas’!”. Whenever I reach a hill, I will always remember his words. I guess having the privilege of running a race or part thereof with a legend will always bring back special memories.

Gerry making a turn at a short
in and out section just after
the 4/9km mark.

Between the second and third kilometer marker you have Mt Taranaki as the backdrop, but some clouds obscure its magnificence. The undulating route continues through the suburb and after five kilometers, we turn to do the second lap of the same course. 

Round number two!

A paved section between houses that
takes you onto the walkway.

Gerry crossing a little bridge
on the walkway.

Most of the participants seem to have done the 2.5km and 5km runs, because after the turn I only saw other runners in a distance with no one behind. The second lap seemed almost a bit easier, maybe because you knew what to expect, and we finished in an impressive time of 59:50, breaking the one hour barrier – much faster than I anticipated, especially after the morning run. Seems like a diet of turkey, trifle and wine isn’t so bad after all!

Whoa - check that time!
not too shabby for only two months worth of training
(and the occasional quick stop for pics) :).

The Olex series – a total of 9 events happening from October 2010 to March 2011 – are organized by Taranaki Harrier Running and Walking clubs. The Bell Block double-lapper is undulating, run mostly on sealed roads with the exception of about one kilometre off-road.  These are great events that cater for the whole family and all fitness levels, with distances from 2.5km to 16km at the respective events.

The Wanganui Three Bridges marathon, half, 10 and 5km runs - 11 December 2010

Registration at the Union Boat Club.

I don’t like the wind. In fact, I want to go so far as to say that I hate the wind. And hate is a very strong word … My granny always used to love the wind. Her theory was that it blows away all the bad stuff and you end up with good clean air. I beg to differ. We once stayed in a small town where the wind could blow an elephant off its feet. And each time after such a, what felt like a tornado, our yard would be littered with flyers, pamphlets, newspaper pages and even crisps and chocolate wrappers from around the neighbourhood (and the air wasn’t cleaner either, but that’s another story altogether). Maybe we just stayed in a collecting corner?

5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1 - Go!

A quick bum stretch, just incase :).

And so it happens that the wind started howling again in Palmy the night before the run. And the more I hoped for it to go away, the more it rocked our humble little home on its polls, swaying in the wind like a Tui nest high up in a Eucalypt. And every time one of the gutters or roof plates rattles, I get such a fright that I would lie there with eyes wide open waiting for the whole roof to lift off. And so it went, right through the night …

The field of 10km runners lining up.

At 6:30 we got up, sleep-depraved, had breakfast with good old Rooibos tea and load the car for the trip to Wanganui, about 75km from Palmy. I guess it could be seen as a little bit crazy to drive 75km to run 10km and then drive all the way back, but this looked like a very nice run. Besides, races are few and far between in NZ, compared to how spoiled we were in SA, and it is infinitely nicer to run with other people than running on your own. Gerry pre-entered, so the fact that the weather didn’t look ideal while we were also expecting rain, was not going to hold us back.

We arrived an hour early, leaving plenty of time to pick up our race numbers in the Union Boat Club, off Somme Parade. The race consists of a 42.2km, 21.1km, 10km and 5km events.  A really nice feature of this race is that it is a lapper: the 10km runners do one lap, the 21.1km runners do a double lap (with a little extra loop to cover the distance) while the marathon runners have to do the same course four times. With different starting times for the different distances for runners and walkers at 30-minute intervals, you are almost guaranteed not to be alone. Like an out-and-back race, this is also a very social format where family and friends can cheer on participants who are running past them with every loop.

With a countdown from the organizer, we were on our way on a cool and overcast morning with only a light wind - just enough to cool you down when you start breaking a sweat after a few kilometers. We started off on the western (city) side of the river not far from the middle one of the three bridges – City Bridge. After about a kilometre and a half, we crossed the Dublin Street Bridge going in Raetihi/SH4’s direction, and boy is the Whanganui River wide. You turn left and run a little loop in a beautiful park (this is where the half and marathon runners go a bit further) before returning to continue on the other (eastern) side of the river. While you run in town, having mainly walkways as your track makes this a very relaxing run, as you don’t have to dodge cars and other road users.

Me, flying over Dublin Street Bridge!

Short stretch run though
a nice park.

You reach City Bridge again at around the 6km marker, where you can hear the commentator at the starting point on the other side of the river. While I thought the race would be run in a figure-8, we were surprised with crossing City Bridge twice. You run over on the one side, cross underneath and run back on the other side, to continue your run on the eastern side of the river.

Turn around point for the
10km runners.

Watering station.

The 8km marker is on the Cobham Bridge and at this point faint little raindrops (or is it mist?) started to cool the air as we made our way back to the finish line - the “home-stretch” as we like to call it. About 500m before the end, we passed two runners sitting on a bench next to the road overlooking the river, and I overhear the man saying to the women: “we’re not finished, you know”, and I couldn’t help but having a little chuckle at the situation – I know the feeling, so close and yet so far. You pass a street market with the smell of coffee and hotdogs just before reaching the finish, and I thought that the poor marathon runners’ mouths must be watering by now.

Gerry, nearing the end of the park.
The guy in front was doing the 42km.

Gerry at the on-ramp of the Cobham Bridge.

Happy chappies at the finish! After a glass of rehydrate,
courtesy of the organisers.

Although we’ve only been back on the road for six weeks, we managed a surprising time of just over 60 minutes for the 10 kilometres (we didn’t have a watch but asked someone who finished with us. Will confirm once the results are on the web). All-in-all a great outing, a great race, well organized, three drink stations en route, and definitely one to put on your calendar if you haven’t done it yet.

The Kahuterawa Two Day Classic race - 27 November 2010

The Dransfield Woolshed

The Kahuterawa Two Day Classic race (27 and 28 November), organised by the Manawatu Striders, is a marathon broken into three stages over two days. Stage one is 7km long and started at nine in the morning. The 15.42km second stage started at one in the afternoon of the same day, and only the following morning at nine, saw the kick-off of the last leg of 21.57km. 42.2km in total. It's a great way to get a feel for covering the distance of a marathon, while being broken down into manageable stages. In our unfit state, we sadly only managed the first short stage of 7km.

Registration

The race takes place south-east of Palmerston North on beautiful farmlands. A real country-style event on farm roads with only a short section on tar. Still in the mindset of SA events, which boasts fields of 1000+ runners, we arrived early at the Dransfield Woolshed to find parking, register and make our way to the starting line. Well, what a surprise to find only about 40 runners hanging around at the starting banner! In SA, these off-the-beaten-track small-town races with 200 or less entrants were always our favourite type – not having to park 3km from the start, arrive at least an hour early and elbowing your way to the registration desk, amongst thousands of other sleepy runners at five in the morning – deep heat and other eucalypt and mint ointment smells too familiar in these situations.

Halfway up the 200m climb at the start of the race

Just before nine, the organizer (Alister Martin/Phil Pirie?) quickly explained the course assuring us that it is well marked, and no one would get lost. This was good news as I was certain I would quickly fall way behind, and not being able to see the other runners, get horribly lost. After a countdown from the organizer (three… two… one… GO!), we were off on a steep little climb of about 200 metres, just to sort out the pecking order early on. And as expected we were already amongst the last five runners.

When we reached the top of the hill, the path flattened out a bit with a magnificent view of Palmy in the distance. The weather also held up nicely and it turned out to be an absolute stunning morning for a run in the countryside.

Gradually we made our way down the other side of the hill before going through some farm gates and eventually reaching the tar-road. A few hundred metres of running on the tar, before we reached the halfway mark, with me in the 40^th and final position. I’ve often jokingly referred to myself as the “sweeper”, being at the back end of the field, but this time I was really dead last.

Palmy in the distance

While this might be an embarrassing moment for some, I couldn’t care one bit. I am there, running/walking 7km in the beautiful kiwi countryside while hordes of others are not. And while I’m not currently the fastest kid on the block, there is an upside to the situation: there’s ample time to enjoy the scenery and take a few snapshots.

Halfway point with me in the last position!

At the halfway mark you turn around and follow the same road back to the start/finish. The race is undulating with nice scenic variety including trees, grasslands, cattle fields, farm roads, and sealed roads. And what is really great about these out and back races, is that there are always other people around (except when you’re last at the halfway point of course!), and if you’re that way inclined you can count how far your are from the front or back. You get to see everybody at least once coming from the front, including the winner.

Back at the start

By all counts a great race that’s well organized. Would love to try the full marathon next year!

Starting over?

Gerry, on one of our "your can do it" runs next to the
Manawatu river

As a South African living in New Zealand and running my own company, I have my fair share of instability and lack of routine. The result often being, lack of commitment towards my love for running, with a number of other excuses.

Beginners advice

Do you see yourself as a runner, but then every so often get sidelined by something and end up not running for extended periods? And how agonizing is the battle to getting back on the road after such a long lay-off?

As a “runner” for the past nine years, I’ve been through the agony of laying off for long spells and then trying to get back on the road, more times than I care to remember. I hate it when that happens, but next time when the wind is howling and the rain pouring, I’m very quick to drown my sorrows with a glass of nice wine, as I watch the weeks fly by and almost give up on being a runner, altogether.

Then, I would buy the new edition of Runner’s World magazine, spot a ridiculously challenging race I’d really like to do, and commit there and then – usually over another glass of wine – to start training the very next day.  And take note - its always only the next day, or the coming Monday, but never the same day. You don’t want to look overeager now, do you, and besides, you need some time to convince your mind that this is the new you.

And low and behold, your commitment turns out to be real and with pride you put on your sneakers, drive to your favourite spot and go out for a casual jog. And this is exactly the point where I, for nine years (I’m a slow learner) always make the same mistake: too far, too fast.  Busted.

Take the plunge

You take your first few steps and all of a sudden it all comes back to you. “Hey, this is not too bad” you say. “I can do this”. And of course you can. You have done this many times before. Any person who has run before, knows that you have a running memory that whispers in your ear that five or six kays is really not far. In fact, it screams in your ear “it’s the least you can do!”.  And being always up for a challenge you go for it. You might huff and puff a bit and realize that you haven’t done anything physical for three months, but your legs feel okey and so you just slow down a bit and get on with it.

Eventually you make it back to the car in one piece and how great is the feeling of accomplishment when you finish your five or six kay training run.  While driving back with a silly grin you can’t wipe, you know you are back on the road. Back home you immediately pour another glass of celebratory wine. But wait, then comes the second day and all of a sudden you battle to get out of bed. Your muscles are so sore that you can hardly walk, let alone attempt another run. And your little celebratory binge wasn’t exactly the best recovery drink either. But you’re committed and you really want to do that race and will go out for your training session come hell or high water.

Then, as you wobble along, you know instinctively that you’ve overdone it and allow yourself to walk most of the five or six kay distance. Because really, when you previously trained for a marathon or similar and you were fit, you would easily run eight to ten kays every day, so how bad can five or six be? The next day might be more of a run/walk routine and usually you try to keep this up for a couple more days. Eventually your muscles are not so overwhelmingly sore anymore, but you are dishearted. You start to believe that you can’t even run 5km anymore and you are as slow as a tortoise. You blame yourself for laying-off for so long and having to start from scratch again. Out comes the glass of wine and with that the excuses pile up much faster than Ma’a Nonu can sidestep Jean de Villiers for that unavoidable try!  And before you know it, three weeks (or is it months?!) have past and you are not one step closer to your goal.

After going through this regime many many many times, I have eventually found the solution to getting back on the road. It goes like this:

First off – find a goal, preferably one that scares the living daylights out of you. And secondly, to put it bluntly: get over yourself! You cannot become completely unfit and then think you can just start where you left off. You cannot even start off halfway where you have left off. You start over. Unless you are blessed with some or other gazelle-genes and can run any distance you please without training, you start over. That is the harsh reality. So stop thinking that only pissies run a feeble three kays at a time.

The Plan

Don’t be discouraged – it is not all bad. I have learnt this the hard way over a very long period of failed attempts.  Don’t let you ego, or lack of patience, get in the way of achieving your goals. To get back into the routine of running, you have to start slowly. This is how it goes: for three weeks, you run three kays in a direction (yes, only three kay’s – because that is manageable from memory), preferably from your home so that you don’t have to drive anywhere. Then walk the three kays back home. Remember to take it easy, run slowly, walk if necessary and only when you feel particularly strong, make it a time trial once or twice during the course of the three weeks. Don’t try to sneak in more running kays and don’t skip the walk just because you are in a hurry. It is important that you do both. If you feel really good, treat yourself with a four to six kay run during one of these sessions per week – your long run. If you don’t feel up to it, keep to the three kay routine. Most important - do not give yourself a hard time because you are only running three kays. The most important thing is that you get back into a routine of regular running.

If you can keep this up for three weeks, six times a week, with one rest day per week, you should be ready to slowly increase your mileage until you are back in shape for your next 100-miler! (or whatever challenge you have your eye on).