Xterra Run Shakespeare Park

Over the course of my life I have entered 2 running races  (this is excluding all the cross country races I had to do at school). Shakespeare Park Xterra trail run was the third.

Having never been to this particular point of the country, I was in for a surprise. Shakespeare Park is simply stunning. After kicking myself for never coming to this spectacular spot i got ready for my maiden Xterra trail run. I am a massive fan of trail running so was pretty excited about the prospect.

I rocked up to the race briefing after annihilating a flask of coffee.  It was go time. After the briefing had wrapped up, i joined the 200 strong crowd trying to cross the Doc mats to wash shoes with detergent. The start line was a further 500m up the road and just as i got through the wash station the gun went and we were off. I looked back at the 100 odd people who hadn’t yet made it over the mats and laughed “Suckers”.

After making my way through some of the “more fortunate” participants I quickly realised I was running quite fast and the acid started descending on me. I got to excited! The trail soon turned awesome as we went into a forested creek area. This was awesome fun. A big chain of dudes smashing through the forest. It kind of felt like a bike race for a second. Pretty soon we popped out on the beach and the adventure began.

A short section of beach running quickly led into rocks. Now I’ve always secretly rated myself as having some rock hoping skills. I have always enjoyed a good frolic from rock to rock, but this shit was a whole new level. Endurance running over this sort of terrain was intense. It required the same sort of concentration as taking a calculus exam.  My ankles aren’t the most structurally out there. If fact on could say they are comparable to Snoop Dog; Loose and loves to roll. This meant that I had to concentrate pretty hard.

A couple of the guys around us formed a little group of 4 who stuck together for most of the coastal section. We were catching others up and passing them so we must have been going alright. In saying that the few guys ahead disappeared into the distance. Maybe they had done this before.

Every now and then we would get a small break in the form of a sandy section. Now ordinarily i would never look forward to running on beach sand, but this was faster than skipping over rocks and allowed some mental relaxation. Shortly after coming off the rocks and onto some sand, no sooner had i relaxed, my gumbie ankle folded beneath me. Bugger. My buddies left me and shit was looking dire. My rock hopping confidence was shattered and i had to nurse myself back into it.  I soon caught back up to the boys and the show was back on the road albeit with a little less power coming out of my left ankle.

There were some tricky sections where you had no choice but to go waist deep into the surf to get around the rocky cliffs. This made the shoes rather uncomfortable but hey, better than mountain bike shoes. The final part of the race was a small lap of the interior of the peninsula. It was hilly. It was difficult. I spotted a guy ahead of me and worked away at him until I was about 50m back before going onto the final beach section. Unfortunately I had nothing left and could not pull off the sprint finish. I am embarrassed and realised I have let The Quest down. Next time

T42 Mountain Bike Race

I’ve never ridden the much talked about 42^nd traverse and have always wanted to, so thought how better to enjoy the scenery than in an intense race.

Friday started off in an intense rush, Gapping a clients office on Queen Street back to the office and then onto the motorway. Off we go baby! An hour later and 2 km down the highway we were listening to some shitty pop music on Jeremy’s wifes ipod. Living the dream.

Fast forward time the best part of a decade and we were in Taupo. Only fitting to go to the pub for a beer after work on Friday, so the pub it was for a pint and fish and chips. Really got to sort my pre race nutrition out.  

After a early night, first light had not yet broken and we were off towards National Park. Taupo is a few degrees colder than Auckland and a certain member of of the party was whining like a 5 year old girl about it. I suppose not having any hair means a lot of body heat is lost.

We arrived at the race site nice and early to get sorted. Next challenge was to rustle up some survival supplies enough to satisfy the officials. The requirements were fairly strict requiring everyone to have a jacket, poly prop, space blanket, first aid kit, whistle to name a few. I rocked up with most things covered, but my interpretive whistling didn’t pass the safety requirements. Apparently I had to purchase one.

I had a good warm up and snuck into the front row for the start. The start was nice and controlled, but the bunch was surging a bit. I heard a couple rubs of tires and started getting nervous. Too many hormones and race start adrenaline is not conducive to safe riding. Heading onto the dirt I made sure I was up front to avoid inevitable carnage. The first part of the course is farm track with some grass farm land with pinchy some climbs. I am a fan of this stuff so no problems here. Very soon it was down to about 6 of us, with Reynolds and Northcote setting the tempo. I was pretty happy to just tag along for now. Didn’t really know what to expect in terms of course but knew there were a few larger climbs later on to force selection.

The descents were awesome fun, bermed corners and super fast. Pretty soon it was a train of 4 of us pumping down the descents. I had one slip up losing the wheels of the others on some clay, but managed to bridge up easily. The train was pretty fun, but not being able to see much of the lines ahead meant that riding became very reactive. Kind of like playing one of those old school four wheel drive arcade games.

 

On one of the rocky descents i heard a bit of a bang on the rear wheel. Didn’t think much of it. Then I heard the Pissing sound of air. Explicit deleted #$%^$#$@#..

I nursed the bike down the decent and through a little river. Jumped off and got a CO2 cartridge out. Tried giving it some juice and hoped it would seal up again. Explicit deleted. Explicit deleted. Explicit deleted. It’s fairly demoralising watching the field ride by while on the side of the track. Brett from Echelon cycles came by and tried to insist I take his bike, but not wanting to subject anyone else to the rookie tactic of not taking a spare tube I sent him on his way to deal to the field.

I could hear bangios as I realised I was in about the furthest spot away from anywhere. I walked back to the last marshall point I had past. Heard a few “dude your going the wrong way” calls. Classical stuff. I found some friendly marshalls including a mechanic, Bonus! I borrowed a pair of pliers and set to work on my rim.  It was a pretty tiny little dent, but causing issues by breaking the seal with the tire. I added some duct tape and began pumping like a got on heat with a little hand pump. The mechanic was a champ and helped out with some of the pumping duties by the tire wasn’t going up. I know how you feel grandma.

I resigned to the fact I was going get back riding and took a seat for some watching. The steady stream of bikers were rolling through, some with better cornering skills than other. I enjoyed seeing a different side of a race with people out to have a enjoyable day with other, chatting away down the trails and sharing crash stories. A bit different from the front end where conversation is held in grunts and internal cries of pain.

The marathoners started to roll through. Dam some of them were moving. I moved on to the next aid station which was a couple kms away. There i found a lovely couple and a 4x4 vehicle. I explained the problem and the guy whipped out a air compressor. Booyah. Excitement was soon lost when i found out it only had a Schrader valve. We macgyvered up a contraption with some tape but the dent in the rim was not allowing the tire to seal. Game Over.

I started evaluating options. I was just shy of 21 km into the ride. I could try and sneak a ride with an official but they were staying there until 4pm. It was about 10:30am. Now, I’m not a patient man at the best of times so the idea of sitting around for 5.5 hours sounded like death. The marshals kindly offered to tie my bike to the car and I could walk out. Walk pfftt.

Alright, better get on my way then. Equipped with nothing but my lycra and mtb shoes I was off. On what would be my longest ever run. I started off fast, since I was a bit agsti from sitting down and watching the race go by without me. I had to remind myself i had 27 km to go.

Offroad marathons are awesome. Good feel amongst the competitors. I suppose I was asking for it, running along in lycra with cleats making an absolute racket on the rocky trails, but I got a lot of comments. Ill give  you a list of the memorable ones:

“Lost your bike man”  “Yeah mate slipped down a creek”

 “Nice shoes” “thanks my podiatrist gave them to me. Really help my running form”

“Where your bike Bro” “Lost it man, dunno what happened”

“Aren’t you in the bike race?” “Nah man, Duathlon!”

The 42^nd traverse is an awesome run, really enjoyed it. The shoes were less than ideal, with a stiff sole and cleats that are not very comfortable to run in. On the upside, the stiff sole means by calf’s couldn’t do any work in the push off so remained minty fresh. I could feel a blister the size of a tennis ball forming itself and providing some excellent cushioning.

With about 2km to go the blister went and so did my spirit. Freshly exposed flesh grinding on the shoes was unpleasant, but only a few minutes to go. Finishing up in the Domain I helped myself to plenty of Vitasport and a beer. Though I deserved a beer after the day’s events. Next year it will have to be, especially after a good reccy of the course.

The marshals arriving back at the Domain was a classic moment. Picture a line of muddy four wheel drives rolling in to the domain doing what looked like a victory lap with a bike strapped to the bulbar like some sort of game prize. These men and women were the champions of the day.

Xterra Rotorua

Friday night was the eve of Xterra Rotorua. I was feeling pretty average with a bit of a headache, probably caused by the thought of sitting in Friday afternoon Mass Exodus type Auckland Traffic.

After a frustrating 4 hour drive we hit the strip. High rise hotels, Strippers everywhere, the sound of pokies making it rain....not quite but there’s a reason that shithole in America stole the Vegas name! This place is epic, It’s the single best trail network I’ve ever been privileged to ride. We rushed into rego then headed to town for the trusty pre race Burger fuel up.

The morning began early as I was watching the guns at the mountain bike race. I watched at the transition/bottleneck from road to dirt and it was everything I imagined it to be providing top comedy. Time for breakfast. Had a Tupperware of muesli and a bottle of chocolate milk, The breakfast of champions. Bit of an oversight with regards to the spoon. Got some funny looks from passer bys when they caught a glance of a man in a onsie sculling a brown chunky substance from carton, milk pouring from the side of my mouth.

I went for a little warm up run. Things felt relatively good. As good as a warm up can feel. Race time was fast approaching. A real highlight in triathlon for me is the part where everyone smothers themselves in baby oil. Any excuse to lube up and go flail around in a confined space.

An overhead camera flew over everyone while we were standing on the start line. The thing was crazy, straight out of a sci-fi movie.

After the 20 minutes of waiting on the start line (more like 2 in real time) the gun went off.

The Swim went well although it’s always hard to know at the time.  I did my trademark smash the first 300m then realise I haven’t actually done that much swimming. Swimming is not a bike race. One day I will learn.

I came out of the water feeling like id had a big night on tequila but moved relatively well through transition despite a few issues with the Velcro on my wetsuit.

Onto the bike, very excited. This feeling quickly subsided as my legs began burning. I passed a few people before leaving the road. Onto the trail, tracking well all the way up the climb. I past a couple people who yelled out my position. 9^th place mate. Happy with that!

The trails kept climbing until out of nowhere, frontal lobotomy. I love this trail. Genuinely a piece of trail building mastery that you can make an uphill switchback trail this good. Got another guy on the pinches. Next on the list was Billy T. Arguably one of the best trails in the around, but my lack of mountain biking was evident. Felt a bit sketchy but was moving along alright.

I started hearing the clatter of a rider coming up behind me. Bet that’s Cabin. This thought was interrupted by Shit there goes my bottle. That’s all my drink and food. Bottle cage you are dead to me. I let him through. Vegas locals know how to pin these trails. I jumped on his back wheel and tried to follow his lines. Front wheel washes out on a gravelly corner. Damn that hurts. Dead leg. High on adrenaline I grab the bike and go. I can hear the rider i past earlier catching me up. I push on. The leg was in absolute agony every pedal stroke. Getting it moving with some fast cadence. I look down to see some blood on the knee. I let the dude behind me through taking it easy down G-Rock following this guy. It’s about then the thoughts of pulling out and ‘how the hell am I going to run 10km’ in this state start coming.

After G rock the trail goes up again into Chestnut link. Use the climb to pull in a couple more people. No sign of Cabin though. That man was on a mission. We climb up to split ends. I love this trail and have gotten a little more mtb practise from the previous trails so it’s game on. Blow past the French rider who pulls over in a super courteous out of his way manner. “Cheers dude see you on the run” (he looked like a weapon). The confidence is a bit lacking so I take it a little easy on the gravel corners. I am joined by Carl Jones. I jump on and work with him along the lake side.

Into transition, I chuck the bike down. Shoes on. Think to myself I should probably get some food and drink on board, since it’s been an hour and a half. Dammit, some dudes snapped me with the camera having a Picnic. I grab what’s left and go. Leave transition with Carl sipping back on some wallpaper glue. Start getting into my running, Carl drift back might have something to do with the taped up knee. Once I get into the bush it gets extreme!  Slip and sliding, ending up in a bush on the first corner. wicked fun.

Doesn’t take long for the Frenchy to pass me. Watch him go by wishing I knew how to run fast. To say the stair were painful is an understatement. Every time I pushed down with my left thigh I got a dead leg. Excellent.  Besides the pain I don’t think I was running to badly. Then Vincent came blowing past me. I tried to pick up the pace but I’m rubbish at sand running, hence why I let The Hof take the lead on Baywatch.

Second lap was alright although I couldn’t wait for the finish. Now everyone has to have some memories of running away from something in their childhood. Mine was a crocodile. Searching for balls next to a golf course in Durban. Trying to imagine a crocodile chasing me. I’ve got to stop running in zigzag. It can’t be very efficient. 

Running scared is not a fun way to run, but it certainly keeps you going. Luckily no one got up to me. Finishing 7^th overall and first non pro. Less than 8 minutes down on the winner. Very happy but in pain. Was time for a swim in the lake and some beers.

Next day I did some shuttles down Billy T. Got that corner sorted now. Xterra Worlds are next on the agenda.

Partners Life: The Dual Motatapu

Coming off the high of winning the Colville race a couple weeks ago I was eager to get in some good training. I had a fairly easy week/taper leading into Colville but could not afford that luxury for the Dual. The leading into the Dual was a tough one, with training and the atrocious weather. Stroke and stride in the pouring rain was actually heaps of fun.

I had a quiet couple days before the Dual, partly because I wanted to try recover a bit from the training earlier in the week and partly because the wind was pumping and kite surfing sounded like a whole lot more fun than trying to battle the wind on a bike. The morning started at 5:30 am, having to catch the ferry over. The ferry really adds to the relaxed feeling of the Dual. A cruise across the harbour and we were pulling up to the island just as the sun was peaking. Epic. Found my bike easily, and was surprised by the amount of Specialized bikes around the place. Other people must have found out “the secret”. I am very impressed with Total sports. That event is a logistics masterpiece.

Pre race was incredible chilled out. Motatapu is a hidden gem. I got amongst a big Thermos of Coffee. Something I had prepared earlier. The 50 km race is about at my one bottle / two bottle limit. In terms of hydration. I decided I’d take a second bottle in my back pocket so I could keep nice and hydrated throughout. Lucky because somewhere in the first 10km, my bottle on my bike was pick pocketed and i would have been left high and dry. I decided to skip the race briefing in favour of dropping the Crosby kids at the pool, which proved to be a rookie move as I found later when my lack of knowledge of the course made it awkward on several occasions.

I went for a good warm up, getting the heart rate up and getting the legs turning over. From past experience, on a course with a hill straight out of the blocks, this is important. I suddenly realised a distinct lack of people warming up. Ah shit, 10 minutes to start. Did some high speed gravel cornering and snuck in the side of the start near the front. Had a quick survey of the start line, a few familiar faces. Race start promptly followed. The first gravel climb is longer than expected, I remember from the last time I attempted the Dual. After the initial jostling around the tempo soon strung out the field. I felt average but the pace must have been good, since the group had whittled down to 4. I moved to the front about two thirds up the climb to control the pace, and so I could have some clear lines on the descent. The epic is awesome for gravel road descending. Something about the long wheelbase, big hoops and suspension. Immediately felt like I could pull away, but no need at this stage. Patience young grasshopper. I knew the climb up Rangitoto was a bit more significant and would force gaps naturally so no need to waste any energy.

Suddenly the landscape changes and you’re riding up a Volcano. Half expecting to see dinosaurs I hid at the back while Cabin set a high tempo at the base. Cabin is a personal idol of mine, so it was pretty cool to be riding in a group with him. Before long the track started kicking and the rocks became looser. Reynolds took over the tempo with a few spurts giving the legs an injection of battery acid. Patience. Nearing the top, the climb grows in bumpiness so I though it was a good time to make the hardtailers pay for that lighter bike they were riding. I could spin along seated while they were getting bounced around over the rocks.  At the top it was just Tom and I with Cabin a short distance back. The descent was super fun ripping the ‘black pow’, with some 2 wheel drifts  before I stopped and thought about the mess that would be my body if I crashed. Tom and worked together on the flat bit, obviously not full gas because we were having a bit of a yarn along the way. Before long Cabin had caught back up. Machine.

Going back onto Motutapu, I was preparing myself for the fight ahead. Rolling back through the village was awkward as we almost ran over runners queued for the toilet. Going back up the same climb we had started with was less enjoyable the second time around. Cabin was setting a strong pace. Tom was ready to pounce. At the top, Tom had a stab pulling a 50m or so gap the rest of us. I wasn’t particularly worried as there was a lot of race left. Eventually i decided thats enough of a gap, time to chase. I jumped across to him and we opened up a bit of gap on Cabin.

Going into the grass portion of the course I made a point of mentally thanking Brett for convincing me to go for a full suspension over a hard tail as the farm tracked were as bumpy as a road in Christchurch. The climbing started getting steep and punchy. Perfect. I particularly enjoyed the wire fence touch, a fence we have to jump over. Only in NZ. While this may not be an issue under normal circumstances, picking a bike over a fence when your heart is beating like a teenage girl watching the Twilight saga, is not an easy task. The course has a brief visit to the beach which is a nice touch. After a perfect dismount and leap across the river outlet I was left feeling with a cyclocross star. That didn’t last long because immediately after the steepest part of the course awaited us. Tom slipped past and set a high pace. Heart rate was maxing and I started doubting. At the top we were together still remarkable and remembered the old saying “the other guy is hurting too”. There was a few more accelerations and tactics. It was the point where something had to give. I went to the front for a downhill section and decided to give the epic a trash. It opened up a slight gap. The downhill was followed by a particular steep section. I was in the low gears spinning away. Tom hopped off and was running his bike behind, keeping up if not going faster. Problem with running is that you need to get back on at some stage. At the top the gap opened a bit more. I said to myself “Alright I’m all in”. Time to use what’s the rest of the gas. The hills kept coming, and i witnessed the return of ‘the song’. Something that was plagued me throughout my biking life. Every time I’m on a steep hard climb an atrocious S Club 7 song sneaks into my head. “ Don’t Stop, Never give up Hold your head high until you reach the top”.  Turn that shit off.  

I gave it everything for the last 5-10km over the bumpy farm track. Started hitting the traffic from the 30km race and a few runners. Good to have some company. The traffic meant I had to take rough lines to pass people sapping even more energy. I couldn’t image the others are fairing any better. Dam the last hill was bumpy, but a very welcome sight and rest. Rolled through the finish. Great Success. Tried to lift the leg over the bike to dismount, Cramp. Turns out some more liquid could have been good.

Cheers to Echelon for the awesome speccy epic. Can’t think of a better bike for a race like this. Cheers to all the other competitors especially Tom for yelling when I made a couple wrong turns.

Blogging....

To be perfectly honest I’ve always judged people who have a blog. It always seemed like a way to pamper ones ego while all the same time reveal a little too much about oneself. Anyways, something clicked when reading through a certain triathlete’s absolutely classic ramblings. Word Callum Milward!

So I’ve decided to get some of this action, mainly to tell the stories of sport and adventure and to embrace blogging and free speech and such magical things and hopefully not offend anyone (too much).