Xterra Wellington Trail Series - West Wind

So this was the last run in the Xterra Wellington Trail Series, and my last official race in the North Island for a while, and after all of the previously fabulous events of the series, the final had a lot to live up to.  I was excited about running through the wind farm, and in the two days leading up to the event, I was dance-around-in-my-seat looking forward to this run (although that might also have had something to do with the hours of studying in the library, and the seat dancing probably wasn't best appreciated by other students, but what did they know, I had an Xterra event to look forward to!).

It was a chilly morning, but luckily the wind was a gentle whisper, and the rain was holding off.  As my wee car struggled up the winding road to the West Wind recreation area, I could see the enormous turbines lazily slashing the air, the rolling hills, and the grey misty ocean - our playground for the morning was revealed.  What an amazing location for a trail run!  After negotiating a parking spot (to a chorus of the graunching bumpers of other cars traversing ditches and banks), I made my up to the registration tent on the hill.  The marquee type tent, and the colorfully attired runners scattered over the landscape put me in mind of a medieval tournament.

After joining the lengthy port-a-loo que, and listening to the briefing: "technical terrain, a couple of SHORT, but steep climbs, varying landscapes...help each other, be nice", the long course runners lined up and were off.  We barreled off along the road, and then started negotiating the ridges of some ocean-side paddocks before descending to the rugged shoreline itself.  I had decided to throw everything into this race, as it will be my last in the North, and I don't have anything major lined up in the next couple of weeks.  I hurtled down the steep banks, seeking my own trail around the already slippery main path.  I congratulated myself on my form, keeping my center of gravity low, and racing past other runners taking a more cautious approach to the down hill section.  Then literally two meters before the trail flattened out onto the beach, I fell.

This is not the first time that I have fallen while running, but it was the first time that I have fallen so publicly, and the first time I had fallen that it hurt so damn much!  I sort of skidded down the rocks on my hands and knees and then my side, and scrambled to my feet as fast as I could to keep running.  The woman behind me kindly checked I was ok.  I said I was fine "these things always feel worse than than they are".  In truth my hand felt like I had been using my palm to grind glass all morning, but there was no visible damage, so I told my self to harden up and move on.  My shin and knees were also aching to blue blazes, but if my hand was anything to go by, it was all pain and nothing to see.

The trail followed to rocky coast line, the ocean pounding away on one side, cliffs extending skyward on the other.  Everything was hurting a lot, and I was definitely feeling less heroic than I had before my tumble, but I was determined to make the most of this incredible place (you Wellingtonians are so blessed to have these sorts of magical running places right on your doorstep, no wonder you are all such trail running superheros, "coolest little (running) capital of the world" - damn straight!).  The pace ahead slowed to a crawl and then stopped as we lined up in single file to negotiate the 'rock-climbing' section of the trail.  I took the opportunity to shed a layer, as the day was warmer than I had expected.  I also took the opportunity to examine my still aching shin.  Much to my delight there was a nice gash on my leg, that was dramatically leaking blood all down into my shoe.  I looked closer, could I see a flash of white bone in there? I kind of hoped so, its nice to have battle wounds to show your dedication to the trail running cause.

The ocean-side portion of the run was spectacular, the waves had neatly piled a low wall of drift wood beside the trail, and as it heaved back and forth, I could hear the rocks being worn ever-smoother under the water.  Everything was coloured in spectacular shades of grey and green, and the indistinct fingers of the South Island could be seen in the distance.  The only thing that marred the beach portion of the run was a big black bag full of rubbish that had washed up on the shore, its sides split and its contents strewn along the beach.  I wondered: if every runner had been able to carry out one piece of rubbish, would we have been able to clean the mess up, and return the coastline to looking untouched...?

After rock-hopping, sand wading, and tide dodging for a couple of kilometers, the trail turned in land and into the first climb of the day.  The muddy track was wide, but already getting slippery under the feet of so many runners, and it kept getting steeper and steeper.  Eventually though, it flattened out at the top (after a couple of brilliantly deceiving I-look-flat-from-a-distance-but-am-really-the-start-of-the-next-hill sections).

The terrain changed again, winding and undulating through pine forest, before breaking out onto muddier ground for the next section of descent.  Not for the last time that day did I lament not being a faster runner, it must be brilliant to be at the front of the pack and speed over the ground before it has become a treacherous muddy ski-slope, where following the runners can slide from one tree to the next, or take tiny careful steps to try and prevent sprawling head long into the mud.  Reaching the bottom, I came across the most enormous piles of poo I have ever seen.  Coming from a dairy farm, I am well versed in the knowledge of cow poo, but this stuff must have come from dinosaurs!  If I had stepped in a pile it would have come up to my knees. What animal does poos this big?

I followed the valley for a while, before the trail veered right and the next climb began.  The trail a head was so steep and muddy that I found it unrunnable.  Again I yearned to be a front runner, just to have watched the supremely fit bound up a slope of this magnitude.  My poor shoes were covered in mud, and my progress became a case of taking one step forward and sliding two backwards.  I am always saying that I want to work on my walking-up-hill fitness, so now was the time to indulge.  The track got steeper (impossible I hear you say) - I saw one runner describe them of Facebook as "muddy cliffs", which actually in retrospect was more or less what they were.

Not really an exaggeration 

As I reached the top of the climb, two of the massive turbines reared into view, their great blades slicing through the air.  The turbines seemed to make this ominous clunking sound as they rotated, was this the sound of those gigantic blades preparing to drop on my head? (I love wind farm's, but being so close always thrills and terrifies me!)  Past the turbines and along some increasingly slippery sheep-tracks, the trail wound along the hillside, a tantalizingly smooth access road teasing me from the other side of the fence.  Then another mad descent down the steepest of grassy banks (I took it a bit slower this time) and along the very muddy valley floor, before commencing the final climb of the day.

I was quite resigned to my slow progress up these brutal slopes.  I think the steepness would have been more manageable had I not also been struggling against a waterfall of mud.  The weather was clearing though, and I took the opportunity to take in some of the incredible views as I gained height.  I hope everyone got a chance to enjoy the amazing vistas of coastline, rolling green hills, wind farm and South Island.  For me, the brilliance of the landscape was the huge reward of all that climbing.  Towards the top, the gradient became kinder, and I enjoyed being able to run up the last part of the hill before heading out onto one of those gloriously smooth and un-muddy turbine access roads.

The final kilometer or so back to the finish was lovely and easy, and crossing the line was hugely rewarding after such a challenging morning in the mud and on the hills.  I even found someone to wash the mud out of my leg wound (I was a little disappointed that I didn't need stitches)

Thanks once again to Xterra, another fab run, and to the Meridian Energy people that allowed us to slither about under their turbines.  I am gutted the series is over, and even more gutted that I won't be running in wonderful Wellington any time soon.  Maybe one day Xterra will come to the South Island, if they do, I will be the first to sign up for a race, you guys put on one hell of a trail running series!