Bell Hill Challenge

You know you have a running addiction when you drive 300km to run 18km.  Up quite a steep mountain.  On a really hot day.

Arriving at the race venue, I was greeted by announcements over the PA system suggesting that men vacate the port-a-loo que and hop the fence to relieve themselves therefore freeing up more loos for the "women and others".  I wondered who or what these others might be.  It was a glorious blue-sky day,  the sun beating down on the friendly, festival atmosphere of the start area.

Bell Hill rose sheer and forest-clad above the verdant pastures below.  The race began with a very steep climb toward the summit, runners and walkers slogging upwards; a multi coloured snake winding its way up the mountain side.  Progress was pretty slow, although there were a few sections were the contour allowed me a bit of an upwards jog-shuffle.  The higher we rose, the steeper the ascent.  Climbing on my hands and knees and negotiating an obstacle course of fallen trees and waist-height steps, the progress of the runners ahead of me was intermittent, often grinding to a halt just as I was balanced precariously on tip toe, legs tensed to spring up what was increasingly feeling like a near vertical slope.  My calf muscles, unused to such sporadic progress, began to protest, sending little riffs of agony up my legs.

A couple of junctures provided the opportunity to make a little faster progress.  On one such occasion, a que of runners patiently waited to struggle over a barbed wire fence, everyone crossing at the same span of wire, where the crotch-shredding barbs had been replaced with good old number eight.  I am pretty used to hurdling fences of the sharp and/or electric persuasion (with varying degrees of success, and very little elegance), so I decided to hop over and skip the line.  I ran up to the post where I planned my leap, one foot on the middle wire, ready to hurdle the fence in one great bound.  My hand went down to the fence, landing right on one of those devilish little spikes, my momentum already propelling my body upwards, too late to prevent my weight from forcing the barb to puncture my palm.  I sort of tripped/fell over the top wire.  Grimacing partly at the pain in my hand, but mostly at my clumsy traverse, I put my head down and ran towards the next incline.

All of a sudden, the peak of the climb came into view.  And then I was at the top, bounding over tussocks to touch the cairn marking the summit.  In front of me the forested landscape folded into the foothills of grey mountains.  All around, the vast patchwork of Canterbury farmland faded into the coastal haze, the bright sunshine displaying all the richness of colour of the alpine world - the whole vista was domed under the brilliant blue heavens.

The course followed the ridge-line for a short while, before beginning a reasonable but still quite steep descent to the forest trails below.  I like running down hill.  I can keep up quite a bit of speed and I enjoy the challenge of choosing good foot placement, picking a good route and keeping my balance.  I charged down.  As the trail flattened out again a crippling cramp developed in the region of my diaphragm.  I am getting quite good at running on when I get stitch and cramps in my core.  But my pace was definitely slowed down as I shuffled through the ache.

The trail continued through pine forest, every breath smelling sweetly of Christmas.  Wind-blown debris  littered the trail, and spots of blinding sunlight burst through the canopy, breaking holes in the chill, foresty darkness.  After descending gently for quite a while, the course began to climb again.  The gradient was very runnable, and it was a joy to run up hill after all the walking.

With only a couple of kms to go, the trail left the cool clemency of the forest and hurled the runners into baking sunlight.  On such a windless day, the heat seemed to radiate from every direction, beating up from the ground, and down from the mountain sides.  The course crossed a couple of deliciously cool streams before rounding the final bend towards the finish.  After boosting my fueling with a mule bar and gel, and the cramp quite dissipated, I was feeling energetic and strong for the finish.  I pushed myself quite hard for the last few minutes, wanting to give it my all towards the finish. I crossed the line in around 2 hours 20 min.

The Bell Hill Challenge was great fun, my only wish was that I had more opportunity to have a go at running the really steep bits.  It was a fantastic day for a mountain run, and a good course.  I am more and more impressed with the caliber of races that Canterbury has to offer.