The Ultra Easy

The briefing:

To anyone that has ever been to a race run by race director Terry Davis, you will know that for the race briefing you'll be in for a treat. I sometimes wonder if I enter Terry's races just to go to the race briefing! Then I remind myself of the other things that he brings to the table that are unlike other races I've been to: warnings of heavy rain, sliding round in mud, relentless climbs, strong winds that might blow you over just when you think you've nearly finished, a main road that if you judge wrong will cause there to be (and I quote) "blood and guts everywhere", are just a few of the favourites, all the while covering the 100-odd kilometres over a couple of relentless mountains that he has in store for you. And don't be mistaken, there will be no sympathy. You signed up for this thing after all!

The race:

The race started out from Luggate in the dark at 3am (because what else would you be doing at 3am right?). It was a hot pace for 100km (or 102km to be more precise)....but unlike the South Island 100km in 2019 when my friend Helene Barron and I had tried to hold the lead of the race only to discover that 18km deep we had followed a relay member, and had to quickly reassess our pace (oops), I was reminded quickly, that this was likely being set by the teams. However, into the race I charged. I had a pace in mind that I knew I could hold fairly easily and was determined to stick to it. But 100km is a long day, and when you add 4,500m of vertical gain into the equation, that day gets a heck of a lot longer. Add a howling headwind to that and expectations go out the window!

Having mainly trained in the mountains over the past few years, the first 30km of relative flat running (this includes along the Clutha river, over Mt Iron and along the shores of Lake Wanaka) proved to be a fuelling challenge for me. Trying to push whole foods into my mouth straight away caused a reaction from my stomach. It wasn't having a bar of it and would continue to punish me for my mistake for the entirety of the race. I hit the start of Roys Peak at my predicted time but with an overhelming urge to be sick.

I pushed on up a familiar track, one I've done many times. The going was slow given the circumstances, but I tried to keep a steady pace. Half way up the climb I received a message from my partner James, who was also running in the race and was ahead of me. He too as struggling with stomach issues and we resolved to stick to Tailwind for now and ride it out. As I hit the top of Roys Peak, I took a sigh of relief that the first climb as over and took in the views. I was about to head across to Mt. Alpha starting with a sweet downhill and promised pies at the top of it. This feeling didn't last as a huge gust of wind hit me like a massive backhand and I was reminded that the mountains are not a place for complacency.

At the top of Mt. Alpha, reports from James were that he had hit the aid station and the pies were good. Glad to hear his stomach was improving and knowing he had a nice downhill to Spots Creek, I charged on to meet Nancy Jiang and a pie warmer. She told me at that stage I was leading the women's race. Happy days! And now I was on the descent and I was starting to feel good.
 
This was short lived. After travelling a few kms of downhill and loving life, it dawned on me I was in front and what did that mean! I was about 45km in and still had a lot of ground to cover. I felt immediate pressure. Pressure that I knew all too well was coming from within - whilst I have led a race before I had never won one. It was awesome to be leading but suddenly there as an expectation within to keep that lead - an added pressure that in some ways made this all the more challenging. With this in my head, I battled on. Hitting Spots Creek was a relief. I saw familiar faces in James' parents and Sally Law at the aid station who reported to me that James was battling on ahead and I was doing well.

The next climb up towards the Pisa range was then upon us and I did what I could to keep a steady pace. However, my stomach issues had started to get on top of me again and I was forced to revert to very little food input at all. The sun started to beat down and the climb went on forever. I had heard from previous runners of this race that this climb was a tough one, normally completed through the middle of the day in the hot hot sun with no respite.

During that climb I relied heavily on the thought that climbing mountains is what I do and I soon realised that it as paying off, as I managed to hold the climbing speed of the men that I was surrounded by. Near the top I received a message from James that he had had to pull out due to a knee issue that he'd had before. I was gutted for him. He had been holding third position in the men's field and knowing he was just ahead of me had been giving me strength to keep pushing. My mental state dropped considerably along that stage towards Snow farm. For 8km I struggled to move forward. I lost time and I started to zone in and out. By the time I literally stumbled into Snow Farm, it was clear to everyone including myself that the effects of under-fuelling were starting to take hold. Unable to string a sentence together, I sat and did the only thing I knew I had to do. Eat. Eat whatever I can, however I could. I struggled to convey the gratefulness that I felt to the people that had come to Snow Farm to support me (Darrin, Kell, James, Sal and Dave). I guess however, I knew, there would be another time for that. I needed to keep pushing by some miracle, I was still holding the lead.

Onwards I went. In my head, I had now covered 70km and most of the climb or so I thought. What carried on from there can only be described as a war of attrition.  After an undulating section, I started towards Lake McKay and the top of the mountain into beautiful breathtaking mountain scenery, large rock formations and a stunning mountain lake. Unfortunately, with this, came high mountain winds that made forward progress slow to snail's pace. I thought I'd better put my gloves on but after a few minutes it dawned on me that I must have been tired because a singlet and gloves weren't going to cut it in this environment and on went most of the compulsory gear. I struggled alongside other runners, who were at this stage the entrants of the Big easy Marathon who had joined us for the final leg. 

Just before reaching what I thought was a sweet final 20km descent, I was forced to reckon with a sharp pinch up another relentless climb. Where the hell did that come from?! This is where race director Terry Davis comes into his own, masterfully designing courses that not only challenged you physically but really start to mess with your head right after you've just told yourself that you've got this, only to be reminded that he's not finished with you just yet! Out of energy, pushing into high winds, and with the end nowhere in sight, I let the time I had in mind to finish this thing go. I told myself that it was not just me who was battling these conditions. Everyone was. It helped. I had this thought as the guy next to me stumbled over a rock and fell. Little was said between us, we both had little to give each other but a comforting look. Though strangers, we were oddly in this together.

Another downhill came, an aid station and more relief. Again, as before, this was short lived as I spied what looked like a large rock in the distance up a pinching climb. This rock turned out to be a person. Surely this could not be another climb! Had we not done enough?!

Finally, I hit the last aid station and as informed it was all downhill from there. At 4-5km out, I met another familiar face in Katie Wright, who told me I was still leading. After a quick hug/me falling into Katie's arms suggesting she carry me home without saying the actual words I left her behind and gave everything I had left to the finish line.

(Ed's note: and Rachel won the women's race we are pleased to report!)