A beginner's experience of the 2017 Luxmore Grunt

4.58am and I'm woken up by an ominous rumble from my abdomen. Some time later I emerge from the bathroom having undergone the sort of colon cleansing experience that people pay money for. I'm not even back in bed before I'm trying to work out what this means for my first ever attempt at the Luxmore Grunt that's only eight days away.

Sitting in the dietician's office that evening, it's apparent that even she has her doubts about whether I'll make it to the start line. After offering to grab me a bucket, she gently suggests that I cancel my last training run. She also suggests that two raspberry jam buns have 30 grams of carbohydrate in them, and I need to consume an extra 100 grams of carbohydrate in the two days before the race. In my befuddled state I translate this to "stop running and eat raspberry jam buns," and nod enthusiastically.

Race day dawns and I find myself at the start line next to my friend Nick. At this point we are still friends, despite him having coached, cajoled, bribed and bullied me from a non-runner to a Luxmore Grunt starter in the space of 12 months. I idly wonder if we will still be friends 27 kilometres from now. The hooter blows and I turn to Nick to quip "let's do this," but the words get stuck in my throat, so I grin stupidly at him instead. Then suddenly we're moving and I'm running and I'm on my way to Brod Bay.

After running laps of Hagley Park for months, with the occasional foray into the Port Hills, the Kepler Track is a dream to run on. I'm feeling on top of the world but the rational part of me knows that the feeling won't last. I try and memorise some of the landmarks in the first two kilometres, knowing that I'll need them as motivation in a few hours' time.

Heading towards Brod Bay. Pic by Photos4Sale

I get to Brod Bay in 38 minutes - two minutes earlier than I had planned. I'm feeling quietly confident that I'll get to the hut around 2:15, but I'm trying to be realistic about the eight kilometres of uphill that is just around the corner.

Plugging in my headphones, it quickly becomes apparent that my carefully curated Spotify playlist hasn't synced to my phone properly. Instead I am stuck with a combination of S Club 7, Macklemore and Neil Diamond for the hour it takes me to walk to the bluffs from Brod Bay.

The eventual winner of the Luxmore Grunt passes me about five minutes below the bluffs. There are a steady stream of people following him, most of whom offer a few words of encouragement or a high-five. I had heard from friends that this event was incredibly sociable, but this is something else. I'm not even at the halfway point and I've already decided that I'm coming back next year.

Smiling all the way to Luxmore Hut. Pic by Photos4Sale

The track gets busier as I wind my way up past the bushline towards Luxmore Hut. I start running, expecting it to hurt after the climb - but surprisingly, it doesn't. Nick passes me on his way downhill and tells me I've got 10 minutes to go until I reach the hut. I contemplate entering the 2018 Kepler Challenge. I love running.

Coming around the corner near the hut, I spot a race photographer. I plaster a gigantic grin on my face and give him a double thumbs-up as he clicks away. The following evening, I will discover that my oversized grin has resulted in photos of me with my eyes shut, and I must resort to Photoshop to create something suitable to be framed for a Christmas present.

I fist-bump a superhero at Luxmore Hut, grab a handful of potato chips, and realise that it's colder than I thought and I should probably get moving. It appears the gear check isn't happening, so with the idea of a 4:30 finish looking entirely possible, I start running back down the track towards the bushline.

The week before the race, I read an article by Matt Bixley about how to run the Kepler Challenge. He wrote "if it feels comfortable and easy, stick with that." Matt has run many Kepler Challenges, so I figure he knows what he is talking about. I run to the bushline because it feels comfortable and easy, then walk most of the section between the bushline and the bluffs. My longest training run had been 21km, and I figure that there is a hell of a difference between 21 kilometres and 27 kilometres, so I'm trying to keep something in the tank for the end.

Running the section between the bluffs and Brod Bay, I find myself with a lot of time for mental arithmetic. If I can get back to Brod Bay at the 3:45 mark, I will be able to walk-run the remaining 5.6km back to the control gates, and potentially still get a 4:30 finish - maybe 4:45 at the outside.

Three kilometres out from Brod Bay, my left knee decides to tell me that it's had enough of running. The same thing happened on my last training run, so I go with the same strategy as last time: turn up the music on my headphones and ignore it.

By the time I get to Brod Bay, my watch is showing 3:41. A quick dash to the loo and I start running again, but stop almost immediately. Gravity can no longer assist me and I'm now firmly in the territory of longest run ever. I start bargaining with myself: If I run the entire duration of Midnight Oil's Beds Are Burning, then I can walk the gap before the next song starts. Thirty seconds later I've reneged on that agreement and am only running the chorus. Before I know it, I'm running two trees and walking the next five.

Dock Bay comes along, and I realise there's just two kilometres to go. I ran this section in 15 minutes earlier this morning, but that was 4:12 ago and I'm nowhere near that fresh now. All hopes of a 4:30 finish fly out the window as I start an ungainly walk-run shuffle towards the end. I can just hear the announcer over the water. This is hell. I hate running.

Then somehow, magically, the trees start to get sparser and the sunlight streams in. I start to entertain the idea that I might not be far from the end. Up a small rise and then I see the unthinkable: it's the race clock at the end of the bridge and it says 4:29:19.

Before I know it I'm sprinting. I will get across that timing mat before 4:30:00 even if I have to trip over it. Once again I smile hugely for the photographer. Tomorrow I will find out that huge smiles make my face squishy and result in Google searches for 'how to Photoshop eyes back in'.

Approaching the finish line. Jubilant! Pic by Photos4Sale

All too soon I have a medal and my husband has a photo of me with 4:29:something in the background and I am deliriously happy. The lady at the finish line then informs me that in my haste to get over the finish line, my phone has bounced out of my vest pocket and hit the concrete. The phone screen is smashed and I'll have to buy a new one next week, but right now I couldn't care less - I'm a Luxmore Grunt finisher!

Postscript: The race clock and the timing mats were slightly out of sync, so my final race time was 4:31:40. Nick and I are still friends and have already started work on my training plan for the 2018 Routeburn Classic. I'm absolutely hooked on running, but have lost my fondness for raspberry jam buns.