Tararua Trail Runner: Captain Cooks Landing

I'd signed up for this awesome looking run well before suffering my Archilles problem more than two months ago, but had subsequently mentally pulled due to my lack of training, particularly of the long run variety. About two weeks out I had a change of heart and decided to go ahead, figuring if I had to walk I had to walk, and that I'd treat it as a training run for future dreams.

Ship Cove

The Captain Cooks Landing run is 26km of off road from Ship Cove to Punga Cove along the northern section of the Queen Charlotte Track in the Marlborough Sounds. Furneaux Lodge is at the mid point so makes for the ideal aid station and end of race festivities. The entire track is 71km and this full length will be raced for the first time (I believe) in November this year. See http://qcultramarathon.wordpress.com/.

Ship Cove (Meretoto) was where Captain Cook landed in 1770 and hence the event's namesake.

150 people had signed up for the race. This is the maximum number that the DoC concession allows, and as everybody had to be boated to the start the race commenced in six waves as the boats arrived. 10 minutes separated each wave. The faster runners started in the later waves in the hope that everyone would finish over a relatively short period of time. After 13 years of running the event the Nelson Events team had the start, and in fact the entire race, running like a well oiled machine.

On the way to the start Nic and I recognised, but couldn't place, the couple sitting opposite us on the boat. As is often the case I'd contemplated asking if we'd met in the past, likely in the hills tramping or maybe kayaking, but hadn't (maybe I'd given them wrong directions in the hills, stolen a bunk in a full hut, or pushed one of them out of an eddy). In any case Nic and Kirsty as, we learned was her name, soon put two-and-two together and we learned that Kent and Kirsty were the couple we had met late one evening back in January as we pitched our fly in the tussock below Three Tarns Pass at the top of the Ada Valley. I remember thinking at the time they both looked fit and confident as they strode past at speed, heading for the pass and valleys beyond as the day was closing. Tatty old tramping gear is always a give away!

Kent and Kirsty were great value; on the boat, then as we spent more time with them celebrating after the race. We look forward to sharing some time in the hills with them soon; running or tramping if they find their way north from Christchurch, or when we next head south.

My wave included maybe 30 people, and to the sound of the horn we jostled for position over the bridge before turning away from the beach and into the first slippery climb. The track is in the bush right from the water's edge and climbs nearly as quickly as any of the Tararua tracks that are anywhere near runable. The track here is clay with a cover of fern fronds scattered in the worn foot steps. I was greatful for the Solomons as road shoes would have been sliding all over the show.

I quickly lost a few places as my lungs and legs accustomed to the effort of climbing, and thoughts of a lack of training didn't take long to appear. I consoled myself in the knowledge that I'd determined this was to be a training run, a run of survival. Finishing was to be my accomplishment today!

For the first 1.5km the track climbs south through coastal bush from sea level to 240m, cutting through a saddle before dropping back to sea level at Resolution Bay. Near the saddle I passed Nic, who had headed off on her 13km walk to Furneaux Lodge a little earlier. She certainly looked to be having more fun than me as I gasped a quick "hi" whilst trying to fill my lungs. She was smiling, I was gasping.

At the saddle I congratulated myself on choosing to carry a camera by stopping to record the view through the punga and over Resolution Bay. Stupid to carry a camera and not use it!

Resolution Bay

The downhill into Resolution Bay was slippery and a little rocky, but nowhere near as technical as many of the Tararua trails and I was soon enjoying the morning out and stretching the legs. Old pains in the Archilles and calf were near the surface so I concentrated on not going over-board, maintaining a steady but not fast speed back to near sea level.

From Resolution Bay the course climbs westward and through another saddle at around 220m, skirting Tawa Bay before veering north along the much larger Endeavour Inlet. From here it's about 4km along this inlet to Furneaux Lodge and our aid station at around the 13km mark.

My lack of hill training was apparent through this early part of the race, and I resolved to fix this short-coming as soon as I could.

Heading into Furneaux I caught Kirsty and enjoyed a few minutes chatting on the easily declining terrain. Kirsty mentioned my compression socks and new waist belt and I spent some time explaining to her my strategy of psyching my competition out by looking professional, maybe even sponsored, and sprinting the first 100 metres or so in a display of dominance; the theory being that everyone would then simply fall into line, being completely psyched. In any case my theory was about to be proven a complete failure, and I was about to suffer a most severe bout of depression - it came on like a freight train.

Thinking I was getting along lightly on my feet, and looking something like a guru trail runner, thoughts of self praise had me smiling to myself. This was wiped away in a matter of a few seconds when I heard behind me the soft and fast pitter-patter of the first of the wave six runners and turned to see the eventual race winner storm by. Starting 10 minutes behind me, he'd caught me at 1:01hr and looked like he was mid way through a 1,500m time trial!

This caused a period of soul searching. Why do I inflict such pain on myself when I'm a 'middle of the pack' runner; for what purpose; what really am I expecting, and from whom? I knew before I started that I'm a much better drinker than many here, and could dominate in that sport. I can play snap with the best of them, and am partial to a bit of gardening. Beekeeping is not a competitive sport but gives me great enjoyment.

I have a dislike of entering sporting events solely for the kudos that is sure to come from your peers. At near 40 this is very popular in my industry. A property professional that hasn't spent $5k+ on a road bike and suitably coloured and branded lycra to circumvent Taupo with their over-weight belly hanging over the cross-bar is no athlete!

I resolved that I just like running off-road, like the competitive nature of events (albeit at my level), and enjoy the after-match function with people that I'd happily be stuck in a snow cave with. My speed picked up and I arrived at the Furneaux aid station feeling better about why I was here and the km's ahead.

That said, I was also buggered. I downed a glass of water and the lovely aid station girl (aid station girls always look lovely) offered a jar full of jet areoplanes. I took three with little thought of those behind me who may be staring into an empty jar. I had a race to finish.

From Furneaux we continued north-west to the mouth of the bay before swinging south for the long run out of Endeavour Inlet. This was easy running on soft clay, and though tired I enjoyed talking with a number of runners that had started a little earlier and were likewise dreaming of a hot shower and cold beer. I was surprised at the number of competitors that were running this course for the second or third time, and also those for which this was the first and longest trail run they would have completed.

We were soon on a north-west bearing for the quick loop around Big Bay and down into Camp Bay and the finish of our run. This stretch from Endeavour Inlet never rises much above sea level although with my level of fitness the short climbs seemed like mountains and much more would have been a struggle.

My final 15 minutes were spent mostly on my own however at the 1,500m to go mark (one of two distance marks on the course) I sidled alongside a runner from Queenstown who gave me the motivation I needed to get over the finish line. We seemed to make the 500m to go mark in about 3.5 minutes, having been warned that this sign is a general approximation only, which injected more adrenalin into my veins than a caffeine filled Gu as I calculated my blistering km pace. It wasn't to be though, the markers being nothing more than a cruel trick so close to the end. The last 500m took about as long as the kilometre before and it was a very tired runner that dropped down to sea level and popped out into Camp Bay to run through the finish chute to end a long morning out.

From Camp Bay it's a 500m walk along the muddy track to Punga Cove, lunch and a hot shower.