New Zealand. My nirvana. A country of friendly, easy-going mates, sheep, mountains, water, trails, fish and chips, Lord of the Rings. But mostly, very good friends and very good people. Running Tarawera for the 3rd time was a great excuse to visit this special place.
My first 2 experiences here (2014 and 2019) were fabulous. The race felt intimate, organic, boutique-y, and all about the runner experience. I was very excited to be back again, this time in the company of my good friend Michael Pullar from Dunedin, NZ, and his wife Megan and daughter Georgia.
Race morning went smoothly, Michael and I were dropped off at the start, and lined up to hear the Māori Haka. Both of us being quite experienced were not nervous and we relaxed until it was go-time.
We were off after the countdown, and the course soon took us through the smelly yet amazing Rotorua geysers and mudflats on either side of the paved path. Michael and I stayed together, nice and relaxed on the path that eventually led to the forest. We had single and double track, rolling terrain, with runners ebbing and flowing. The course was well marked, and volunteers directed and cheered us on at every intersection. About two miles in, chatting away with Michael, I caught a rock on a benign section and smashed onto the ground. I bounced back up, feeling bad for breaking my promise to my daughter to “not fall down”. Sigh. No worse for wear, and only a little blood, we soldiered on, Michael pulling away on the climbs, and me returning to his side on the downhills.
At the 10k mark, there were dozens of spectators cheering us in, including Megan and Georgia. Georgia held up a sign “Go Dad!” and quickly flipped it over to “Go Meghan!”. I was going to top off my bottles, but the tables were quite crowded, and I had enough to go another 6k. Michael had left ahead of me, but eventually I could see him. Hills continued to pull me into a very conservative shuffle, but I knew I’d be out here all day so didn’t push.
Just as I got to the next aid station, I caught Michael. This one was even more crowded. We now were thick into the 50k runners and hikers who had started an hour earlier as well. Michael spotted a nearly empty jug of electrolytes and we managed to help each other drain it into our bottles and scoot out of there.
The next bit of the course included and out and back with a lollypop loop. Traffic was thick on the double wide chunky rocky road, which sort of eased up on the loop bit in that we didn’t have oncoming traffic, but we did have many 50k runners/walkers to share the course with, requiring a little patience, but having to slow down can be a benefit in the long run. I had lost Michael behind me at this point. I tried to drink from my newly filled bottle only to discover that the bottom of the jug I filled from was full of undissolved product which had clogged the straw.
I finished the loop, wove my way around runners up to the aid station only to find 2 very long queues – one for runners coming into this section, and one for those of us coming out. I had never seen anything like it. I chatted with the runners around me, and finally after about 4 or 5 minutes, I saw that no one was taking any soda, so I went up to the table, topped off both bottles with coke and ginger ale, hopefully enough for 8 slow miles to the next aid, and left.
My easy shuffle up the double wide track served me better than a fast hike, allowing me to weave myself through the various race distance runners. I had to remove the top of the flask with the clogged straw to slosh the mixture of sports drink and ginger soda into my mouth until the clog dissolved.
About 3 miles into this section, the 50k runners took a turn towards the finish, the 100k entered a beautiful forest, dark from the density. I was finally in my happy place, alone in the forest, following the lightly trodden path.
After about a mile, I popped out onto the paved road that skirted Lake Tikitapu and remembered coming down this road in the opposite direction in previous years, before landslides had damaged the original course, making this now a long out and back section. I caught and passed a couple of runners before getting around the lake, then crossed over the road, heading for some more single track. “Well done Meghan!” I heard, and off to my right was Kiwi Dawn Tuffery, a talented runner I had met my first Tarawera in 2014, cheering me on. It was so uplifting to see a familiar face. She obviously saw the blood on my knees and advised me to be careful in the next trail section.
I ducked into the woods and found myself smiling again as I carefully trotted over the root covered ground, and in about another mile, popping out onto pavement, which meandered into a small village, then back on a trail next to Lake Ōkareka, busy with summer activities of barbecue and water fun. The course ran across the grassy field to the next section of single track, and I cheered on by onlooking picnickers.
A boardwalk track led on for a bit, then I was abruptly directed onto some technical single track by a young volunteer, whom I teased about the wisdom of this choice. It ended on a steep paved road that I managed to jog up most of, trying to stay in the shade as it was heating up. Pavement turned to gravel, and I continued my shuffle jog all the way up to the aid station, 8 miles since the last one.
I was greeted by eager girl scouts who took my flasks, filled them expertly, and helped me douse with sponges to cool off. I ate a little watermelon, and grabbed a gel, and began the 7 mile gradual climb and 3 mile descent to the Ōkataina aid station. This out and back section I was looking forward to initially because I knew I would see the race leaders. The climbing was gradual and runnable for the most part, some in the shade, some in the sun. I caught a few folks, feeling relaxed. At about 5:30 hours in, the first male runner came barreling towards me, a good 13 miles ahead of me, looking fresh as a daisy. It was eventual winner Kiwi Daniel Jones, who also placed 5th at Western States last summer. He had a very sizable lead, as it was quite some time before I saw the 2nd place runner, Justin Grunwald from the US, followed by fellow Yank Sage Canaday.
At about 32 miles and 5:50 in, I was happily greeting Kiwi Ruth Croft, a good 10 miles ahead. Ruth is one of the best women ultra-runners in the world right now, having won Western States 2 years ago, and winning most races she enters. More than that, she is a generous and humble athlete, the kind that everyone wants to win a race. I whooped and hollered, stepped to the side of the track to let her by while she greeted me. But in my excitement, I started to slip down the side of the trail that had a very steep drop off. I nearly lost all control (well I guess I actually did) but Ruth reached down and yanked me back up on the trail. She gave me a hug, I apologized for being an idiot, and she was all “no worries! See you at the finish line!” and was gone. Grateful to be upright, I headed on, only to realize I had wrenched my back but good in the near fall and was quite concerned that I may have really undone my race. I moved gingerly, and if I was careful, I could run pain free. I finally reached the summit of the climb, and the downhill running proved to be quite painful for a while. Finally, my back “unwrenched” I guess, and I was as good to go as I could be.
At the bottom of the hill, the course made another lollypop loop. I had seen 7 women ahead of me, but now I wouldn’t have any idea how many more were. When I arrived at the Ōkataina aid station, I was greeted with cheers, people calling my name (the benefit of a number tag with your name) and then spotted Georgia and Megan – Georgia with a canvas sign especially made for me the hours between aid stations. Volunteers directed me into a building where the food was. In I went and sort of felt my way along the table as it wasn’t as clear what the set up was. I quickly figured out it was self-serve, so grabbed some watermelon, banana, a gel, and went outside to fill my bottles. Megan was there so I updated her on my race so far, while she helped me organize myself. I hadn’t seen Michael for some time so couldn’t report to her on where he was. I sponged off again, then headed out to finish the lollypop loop.
A young man came running up behind me, and as he passed, he tripped, splayed out in front of me, picked himself up, and stayed behind me for bit as he fought off cramps. Soon afterwards, another young man passed me, tripped, fell, cramped. I thought maybe I should be wearing a hazard sign to warn runners about the dangers of passing me. Finishing the loop, we were now faced with the return trip up and over, only this time we gained the same elevation in just 2 miles. I saw Michael coming towards me, so we stopped to catch each other up – he was feeling pretty toasted, but with his usual cheerful demeaner, and determined. He said he thought I was about 15th-16th female, and that “fancy pants” wasn’t far ahead. I had no idea who that was but went on my merry way.
This climb back up was kind of hideous – very steep sections with little to no grip, with runners coming down the other direction. Last time I ran this race, we only went in this direction, and only after relatively mild hilliness. Doing it this year after such a hard climb over was quite challenging, especially with the oncoming traffic. I passed one woman on the climb in black shorts, so didn’t think that was who Michael meant. After finally summiting, the long descent was fairly easy, other than the stepping aside for other runners. I finally spotted “fancy pants” ahead, a woman wearing black and white short. At some point she saw me and picked up her pace. She was quicker on the little ups, but I gained on her on the downs. A very enthusiastic spectator on his bike cheered “Go Danielle!” and high-5’ed her, and he did the same for me, reading my name off my number. It was fun to get some random support and it put a smile on my face.
I finally caught Danielle, spoke some encouragement, and put some distance on her, or so I thought. She actually hung right along, and together we came into the aid station with the girl scouts again. I had foolishly run out of food on the last section, which was 11miles long. I took a PBJ sandwich while a lovely volunteer took my flasks to fill. I managed about half of the sandwich and took some banana. Once I was all ready to go, I saw a very young girl at the sponge bucket and had her sponge my head a few times. “You’re brilliant!” I said, and she said “Yes!”.
Leaving the aid station I soon caught Danielle walking down the gravel road. “Ready to run?” I asked. She said not yet, but soon she was back on my heels. We ran together for a while so exchanged a bit of small talk, then she pulled ahead again, but stayed in site.
Back in front of the picnickers on the lake, through the little village, up on the paved road, back on the single track, back on the road next to Lake Tikitapu, the whole while, Danielle in my view. I must have been focused on her too much because I caught some meaningless pebble and found myself splayed on the gravel. I watched a car drive by without even slowing. I picked myself up and trudged on. Back onto single track, I was starting to feel fatigued, which was somewhat disappointing. Blue Lake aid station came up quickly, and there were Georgia and Megan cheering loudly for me. I walked up to them for a quick chat, and they followed me into the aid, helped me with my bottles, gave me some good cheering up. Megan said she might not be at the finish when I got there because Michael was a fair way back. I encouraged her to not worry, I would be totally fine in the recovery area.
Into the forest again, and running okay on the flats, just not fast. Of course, I could see Danielle ahead. Hearing steps behind me I pulled to the side, to be passed by a lanky young woman, moving strongly and easily. Eventually the trail turned to gravel, which we remained on for well over a mile, on which I skirted from one side to the other trying to find smooth track.
At long last we were on trail again, only it went up quite steeply. I had no recollection of this section from the past, for good reason, as it was a change to the course. So much for a “fast” finish. Danielle was up ahead hiking slowly, as was I. When we finally topped, I didn’t have much left in my legs for nice downhill running as it was rough track.
When we popped off the trail, we were on a paved road to the final aid station “Redwoods”. A lovely volunteer took my flasks to fill with coke, while I used the porta-potty, and I was ready to go. Danielle was just ahead of me, and our same cycling spectator was now here cheering with friends for us, with high 5s.
With 5ks to I was feeling glad to be nearly done. Danielle continued to pull me along, but I never closed the gap. The course wound around to the geysers and mudpots and sulfer smells, but nothing prepared me for the bugs. Swarms of itty-bitty bugs. I found myself instinctively swatting my arms at them and trying to breathe through my nose. It went on for well over a mile, and at one point in the dusky sky I could see the swarm mobs and try to get around them. Thankfully I didn’t turn on my head lamp as I’m sure that would have really attracted them. I ran a little blind in the final stretch of tree covered trail, hoping I wouldn’t fall for a 3rd time.
When I heard the finish line announcer, I knew I was finally almost there. I had a vague idea of what my time would be but rarely looked at my watch. I was about 6:00 at the halfway, and I knew I wasn’t brilliant in the second half, so I figured close to 13 hours, given the course was 106ks in reality. As I came around the final stretch to the finish line, there were 2 clocks running. I didn’t know which one to look at (I couldn’t see my watch well without my glasses), but I did know it wasn’t the one that said 16 hours and something. But the other clock read 14:40, and I was absolutely gutted. How could I have been that much slower?
The current race announcers were cheerful, but there were no announcements unique to each finisher, such as name, country, race they were in, so it all felt a bit anticlimactic. Poor me walked into the recovery area, and the food was wonderful. I opted for some pumpkin soup and sat my sorry self in a chair. I was so tired, so dejected, so questioning how much slower would I be getting in just another year, would I be able to finish a 100 miler, wah wah wah. A younger woman from Australia sat next to me and we chatted a bit, me sharing my moroseness. I still hadn’t looked at my watch and the run time had disappeared from my watch face at this point. BUT – time of day was only 9:15 at this point. Huh? The race started at 7:30 am, 13 hours 45 minutes ago, and I had been done for some time. I exclaimed to the woman – “wait, what was your time?” She said 13:18, but she didn’t know that until her friends had texted her a congratulations on her time! Talk about a mood swing on my part. It turns out that neither clock was for the 106k, but one for the 100 miler and one for the 50k. I had indeed run 13:16 for 106k, and around 12:30 for a 100k. Life instantly felt better.
I wandered outside the tent wondering where to wait for Megan and Georgia, when I heard two figures along the finish chute “I checked with the results people and they said she finished 45 minutes ago”. It was Georgia, and I shouted hello. They had come to find me and then go back to Redwoods aid station to crew Michael one last time and for Georgia to run in with him. I gladly tagged along. They had bought 3 types of pizza and garlic bread in case it sounded good.
Once we got to Redwoods, it wasn’t long for him to arrive. Megan and Georgia helped him at the aid station, then Georgia and Michael were off for the last 5ks. Megan and I zipped back to the finish line, watching and waiting, getting pictures of the wrong runners in the darkened finish area and no names were being announced, when at last, they came trotting across the finish.
Michael was in good spirits, happy to have gotten it done given the minimal training he’d gotten in due a lingering injury. He’s aiming to come back to Western States one of these years, so more tickets for him!
Brag alert – I did win my age-group, by 3 hours and was 16th female overall. Beat the 60+ aged men too. The only 50+ woman to beat me was Danielle, by about a minute. She told me later that I kept her honest. But what I thought was super cool was there were fifteen 60-64 year old women in the race!! Yay us!
I highly recommend visiting New Zealand. The people have always been the biggest draw, being so kind and generous and very down to earth. I love the farms, the wools, the average activity level, the narrow roads, the natural beauty, the birds, and the meat pies.
A special thanks to Pullar/Bartlett family for hosting, crewing, feeding and zorbing! Happy to report that with Squirrels Nut Butter on my feet, Injinji socks on my toes, and my USWE pack not bouncing, I had zero blisters or chafe. Win!
For more photos from my trip, check out my instagram @runningmegleg or Facebook.