Sunday, July 21, 2013

Dunedin

I have just returned from a glorious and fun-filled week my family in my fabulous home town of Dunedin.  Now I am enduring the jealousy-withdrawal of returning to the pancake flat plains, and feeling envious of all the lucky people who have a hilly playground like Otago to run in.

Mt Cargill


My first run of the week, in the crisp and frosty early morning (the temperature reading at the storage facility in North Easy Valley was claiming -5 degrees Celsius). I started off running down hill, the lights of the city twinkling below, forming a sparkly barrier between the inky harbor and inkier ocean.  At the gardens, I headed up North East Valley against the tide of students and on-foot commuters heading into town (fond student memories).  At the top of the valley, I left the road, and broke onto the trails of Bethunes Gully.  The grassy playground narrowed into bush clad tracks as I began to climb.  I have walked this route many times in the past, but it has been a while since my last ascent, and I don't recall ever running the trail, so I only had a sketchy recollection of what to expect.

Looking back over the harbour, Port Chalmers and Taiaroa Head

For the most part the trail was smooth and wide, climbing all the time, and shrouded so densely in bush that for most of the run, I had no perception of height gained, or progress towards the top.   About half way to the top, a lookout revealed the harbour snaking away over my right shoulder, the peninsular and Harbour Cone.  Ahead, despite all the uphill work, I still had a fair bit of ground to cover (and climbing to do before I would reach the summit).  I was relieved that I was still able to run uphill, as I don't get as much practice over steep terrain at the moment.



As the track neared the top, the well groomed trail gave way to slippery clay, rocks and rivulets (containing icy, icy water), patches of snow appeared, and the ground was frozen very hard.  Just before reaching the transmitter at the peak, the trail edged around the opposite side of the mountain providing a glorious view north, the coastline fading into the distance, and the mountains marching inland from the sea.  Despite the chilly morning, there was no wind, and the high, dark cloud, and greeny-grey tones of the land and sea under the sky were moody and beautiful.

Mt Cargill Peak and Dunedin City
After pausing at the summit to pop on my hat and gloves, I headed off down the access road, which started out being icy and treacherous, but was soon just steep, and quad-burning torturous.  Most of the downhill running that I have experienced has been over soft trails, and are less jarring to run down, so running down the road required some alteration of technique (absorbing a lot of the impact through keeping my legs loose, and landing on my fore-foot.  The gradient became a little more forgiving, and the downhill stretch before home, left me feeling so refreshed that I was tempted to run the loop again.

Mt Flagstaff

For my second major run of the week I wanted to ascend Mt Flagstaff.  Dad, who is more familiar with the terrain, mapped out an excellent trail for me before I left.  I started a little later in the day that I had for my previous run, and headed down to the Woodhaugh.  I then followed the Leith up to the Ross Creek track, forcing myself to run as fast as I could up the steep dam front, trying (and probably failing) to avoid looking too foolish in front of the fit and muscled runners pelting past me in the opposite direction.  I attempted a "hello" between betroot-faced gasps for air, it probably sounded like the death rattle of a tuberuloid-pig.  I stopped trying to communicate with the supremely fit, and put the rest of my effort into cresting the hill.

Ross Creek Reservoir
From the reservoir, I took the Craigeburn trails past the ruins of pioneer cottages and through the bush to the start of the Pineapple Track.  Here, the climbing began in earnest.  The route heads, for the most part, pretty much straight up the side of Flaggy.  I kept up a reasonable pace the whole way, even over the steep sections.  The lower section of the run was through bush, which, upon breaking out above the snowline, provided beaut views of the city and surrounding countryside, as well as some fabulous tussocky running terrain.

Half way up
I skirted around the back of the summit, looking out over the Taieri Plains, but mostly fighting my way through the heaviest and stickiest mud that I have ever run through.  The claggy clay mixture was rusty red, and nicely slickened the soles of my shoes, nullifying any effect the tread might have had for maintaining traction.  The muck then climbed over the tops of my shoes and up my legs, till I had mud slathered all the way to my knees.  The final and quite steep descent to the bull-ring was a little terrifying - mud skiing is harder work, and less fun that it looks.

After my mud-party, I followed the nicely graveled walking track to the summit, relieved as the weight of the mud began to drop away.  The wind at the peak was chilly, but the view was amazing.  I sampled some of my newly discovered dextrose energy fuel (tasty and easy to eat, but don't chew while breathing heavily, or you sort of choke on the dust).  The run over the next section of trail was truly brilliant, the golden tussocks framing the undulating and twisting trail, mountain peaks all around, the city below, I almost felt as though I was running through the sky.  This trail is so much fun to run!

View from the summit
The track looped back to the trail on which I had ascended, and I began my descent, appreciative of the soft trail underfoot as I plunged downward.  I felt the familiar thrill and pride of marveling at the steepness of the track up which I had managed to run, and quickly made it to the bottom of the hill, before finishing my run with a final ascent towards home.  The last climb was less steep than the jaunt up Flaggy, so even though my legs were tired, my progress felt easy.

I found the Flagstaff run the most challenging, most runnable and most enjoyable run that I have done for a long time!  And there are so many other exciting places, mountains and trails to explore around Dunedin, I can't wait to get amongst it.

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Winter Warm Up

I was nervous and excited for the Winter Warm Up, it has been my first race for a while, and my first race since moving to the South Island.  I have been doing quite a lot of running, but was still feeling anxious about my ability to perform on the day (I must clarify, that this was not my ability to do well, but indeed, my ability to run, as I often fear loosing my fitness and coordination if I have more than a day's break).  The night before the run, I did something that I should never do when feeling nervous, and that was check the finish times from previous years...needless to say, my pre-race nerves notched up a couple of extra gears.

The wind and rain that had battered the region the night before the race, had mostly subsided by the time I arrived at the race location.  The farm hosting the race boasted views of lovely green rolling hills, and surrounding mountains, the sun was shining and the greasy road to the start line had only stymied the progress of a few cars (parked forlornly at the end of churning, muddy tyre tracks).

Despite the sun, the wind was building, and as the runners of the 20km course jiggled impatiently at the start line, it felt bloody cold too.  Purple and goose-bumped runners dashed off down the slope, and we headed out on the first lap.  My down-hill running speed is always improving, and I enjoyed tearing away, and loved the brief moment of elation at being vaguely in touch with the lead pack.

Turning off the gravel road and into the first paddock, I was hit with the full force of the wind.  Some runners were gingerly picking their way around the mud-filled gate way, but I splashed and slithered on through - the muddier the merrier!  Trotting over the crest of the first incline, the wind met me with even more ferociousness.  My eyes were streaming, my nose running, and I was gasping like a fish, trying to suck in oxygen against the windy onslaught - I felt as though my head was shedding a permanent sprinkler of fluids, droplets of tears and snot whipped away in the wind - I hoped no one was running too close behind me.

Next the course crossed some turnip paddocks before winding around the side of a hill.  The turnip paddocks were great fun, and added a technical element to the footwork.  After circumnavigating the hill side via the sheep tracks, the steepest climb of the race presented itself. Towards the top the incline increased to the point where I could only manage a walk, and fortunately my uphill walking fitness had decided to come to the party, so I was able to reach the top reasonably comfortably.

More down hill running followed, and I was able to charge off again, it was such a thrill to pass quite a few others (and they weren't even walking!).  I suppose that some sort of small improvement on my behalf is testament to the advantage of practicing.  I can remember wondering how faster runners could power off down hill so confidently - weren't they afraid of falling and breaking something?  After a bit of practice and technique tweaking, I have so much more confidence to go fast heading down.  For me, I use my quads to stabilize my movement, and keep my center of gravity low - I also focus on keeping my elbows out wide from my body to assist with balance.  The overall effect of this approach probably looks like someone attempting the chicken dance and lunges all at once, but it works for me, and I have long since given up trying to retain any aesthetic dignity while I run.

After pelting through some more mud (is it wrong that sometimes I kick my heels up more than usual just to ensure a good coating over myself?), the course climbed gradually again, this time with the wind gusting at our backs - I think I was literally blown up the hill because I didn't feel as though I was having to put much effort in.  Then we rounded the last ridge-line (leaning precariously into the wind to stop ourselves being blown off the side) before another long descent back to the start area, and then off for a second loop.

The second loop, was if possible, even more blustery than the first, and was, as expected, in all other ways, quite similar to the first.  I did enjoy running past a mountain biker pedaling up one of the hill sections, and also putting in every last shred of effort to finish fast.  The thing that I really like about courses that follow multiple loops of the same trail, is that after the first lap, I know exactly what is coming, and how to pace myself.  If I am unfamiliar with the course, I think that I hold back a lot so that I don't wear myself out before the finish, but reach the end feeling that I didn't put in everything I had.  I wonder how more experienced runners pace themselves for best results?

The run was followed by a spectacular spit roast lunch, which was just the thing to round off a great morning of running, especially as the day was getting colder and colder.  I really enjoyed this run, it was great fun,  challenging and very rewarding.  I am looking forward to enjoying more spectacular South Island trail running fun.