The Great Naseby Water Race

What an incredible event.  The Great Naseby Water Race is, hands down, the best, most enjoyable and friendliest race that I have run. 

I started out later than I had originally intended for Naseby after double and triple checking that I had everything I needed.  I was excited about heading ‘home’ to race in Otago, and looking forward to being reunited with the mountains and high country that I was lucky enough to grow up amongst. 

Sunset on the Kakanui Ranges

The sun was dipping low by the time I turned inland, and I was treated to an array of golden tussocked peaks, and peach coloured snow as the sun set.  Reaching Naseby, I was a bit worried to find that there had been a muck up with the reservation for my accommodation, and I was turned away from the place I had booked.  I headed to the camp ground, also fully booked, and was resigning myself to having to sleep in the car (freezing, and not ideal before my first ultra marathon). 

Thankfully the wonderful campground owner promptly telephoned other hotels in Naseby, and the wonderful people at the Royal Hotel were able to make room for me at the last minute.  I was thrilled.  The Royal Hotel is a delightful little historic pub and hotel dating back to 1865.  My room was super cosy, and I was in heaven when I discovered the electric blanket!

Royal Hotel, Naseby

After the prefect pre-race dinner of pasta (tomato, spinach and olive sauce – yum), I headed to the Naseby town hall to register for the race.  I was greeted by race coordinator Jamie, who amazingly, recognised me from Facebook, and warmly welcomed me to the event.  He reassured me that I would be able to cope with the distance despite not having raced an ultra or a marathon before, and told me about an incredible “hard as nails” lass who was racing the 100miler as her first ultra!  I got my number and was encouraged to visit the race at night, as the 100mile runners had already been underway for nearly eight hours.

I drove to the race venue, and stepped out into the freezing night, a million bright stars above and the glow of the start line/transition area in the distance.  At first I regretted not having my head torch, but wandering through the inky night felt magical.  I could hear frogs calling in the water ways, snatches of competitor conversation carrying through the crisp air, and the twinkling of head torches bobbing away in the distance.

The transition area was lined with tents, and filled with toastily wrapped-up support crew; many a down jacket and sleeping bag donned against the icy air.  Competitors passed through the glow, feet and blisters were tended to, steaming soup shared around, and fistfuls of lollies devoured, before the head lamps dwindled again into the distance.  Everyone was in high spirits, and the transition area had a festival atmosphere.  I headed back into the night, and enjoyed a cosy night and fantastic sleep. 

Race day dawned with a frost so thick, that my car doors wouldn’t open.   The sun was already bright and warm, and the conditions promised to be perfect for a day on the trails.  Down at race HQ expectant runners milled about waiting for the briefing and 9am start, while on the course itself, 80km, 100km and 100mile competitors charged determinedly past.  Everyone seemed to know each other: veteran competitors joked about previous events, support crews traded storied about braving the freezing night, and everyone was quick with a welcoming smile.

Perfect day for a trail run

After the briefing, we all lined up ready to head out.  There were several elite and accomplished runners that I recognised from national fame and previous events.  I think that one of the neat things about our sport, is that amateurs get to compete (or at least participate) in the same events at the elite, we get to run alongside (and be lapped by) our heroes and heroines.  It’s kind of like learning the violin by playing with the NZSO.

As we started out, the supremely fit dashed out into the distance, and I plodded away at the back of the pack, anxious not to head out too fast.  The course followed a wide gravel road over some gentle forest bordered hills.  The sun was still low, so I was running in the long cold shadow of the trees, the ground underfoot as hard as iron.  The road way curved around a lake before turning into single trail, skirting a second glassy lake, polished blue with the reflection of the sky.  Everything was dusted with a powdery frost, the air still, crisp and cool, perfect for running.  After a bit of a plunge up hill, the trail met up with the historic water race that gold miners had constructed over 150 years ago to carry water to Naseby.

A sharp descent and climb led the trail briefly away from the water race, before rejoining the gently winding water course.  The elevated track allowed fantastic views back over the Maniototo to the golden mountains in the distance.  After following the water race for a while, the course dipped back down hill through the race transition/HQ area, before rising again to meet the water race.  After following the water race, the trail turned inland and up a very steep little rise, before winding through forest with slightly more technical terrain underfoot.  After negotiating tree roots (and later in the day, mud), the course broke out into bright sunlight, and followed forestry roads rising over gentle hills.  At the top of the climb, bright clay cliffs framed snowy mountains, before the trail descended all the way back to the transition area and eventual finish line.

Clay Cliffs

The figure-8 course, measuring about 10km, was run the number of times required to make up the total distance (I ran it 5 times), and passed through the transition area twice per lap, allowing plenty of assistance and replenishment for those that needed it.

As my race progressed, the frost turned to mud.  I marvelled at the super long distance runners, wondering how the course would have been to negotiate in the pitch black of night.  I also thought about the hardy miners who had constructed the water race, taming the difficult wilderness in the hope of making their fortunes, braving the harsh conditions in quite a different and rather awe inspiring feat of endurance.

Inspirational quotes had been affixed to trees at various points around the course, making me smile.  In fact, I was loving the race so much, that I grinned like a bit of a twit the whole way around.  I ended up running the first two laps faster than I had planned, well under 7min/km the whole way, but the trail was perfect, so I couldn’t help myself.  The day heated up quite fast, and by the time I was into my third lap, I had shed my excess layers, and was starting to feel that I was being slowly poached in a marinade of sweat and merino.  By half way through lap four, I was starting to hurt: feet, knees and ankles taking a pounding.

Running past the clay cliffs - by lap four I was starting to feel it.

Each time I passed through the transition area I received heaps of support and encouragement from the crew.  It is really nice to hear that you are still “looking good” form-wise after 30 or 40km.  As I passed through to embark on my final lap, Jamie called out that I was doing well “it’s a doddle”.  My lower limbs didn’t really agree.  But overall my first ultra was going really well. 

Running through the festival-like race transition/HQ area - 5km left!

I kept my fuel up through every lap with gels and Mule Bars (which are so easy to eat and don’t upset my stomach).  I think that my fuelling during this race was really good and helped to keep me moving along at a reasonable pace. 

Emotions were running high during my final lap, I felt such an amazing sense of achievement, and success, knowing that for me, what I was about to achieve was really quite spectacular. As I the finish line came into view for the final time, I shed a tear or two of happiness, but by the time I reached the finish line my grin had returned.  I had done it.  I had managed to run 50km. And I still felt pretty good. And I finished in 6^th place. Bloody Hell – not a bad way to top off my first year of running.

50km later: still running, still smiling

I really enjoyed the family oriented, laid back, and supportive atmosphere of this event.  It was heart warming and uplifting to see kids running final laps with their parents.  Family and friends walking with exhausted and grey faced 100milers.  Equally fatigued and injured runners, silently keeping vigil in pairs as they headed intrepidly towards the finish.  As fitter competitors passed me, they seemed to unfailingly offer words of encouragement, or check to see if I was ok.  No other event I have been to has come close to achieving the same fantastic atmosphere.

For me the number of runners on the trail was also a bonus.  There were enough people to feel that I was participating in an event, but everyone was well enough spread out, that I could run for long stretches on my own through the forest – something that I relished.

I would absolutely recommend this event to anyone considering an ultra.  It is very well organised, and a lot of fun.  I will absolutely be back next year (maybe even for the 100miler!? -That seems like about the right amount of scary), and probably every year forever.  An enormous thank you to the race organisers and competitors who made this race. And thank you to my family for supporting me and cheering me (crazily) along.  The Great Naseby Water Race is truly great.