It’s normally about five or six weeks into an injury that you start to go stir crazy. The last few weeks have been consumed with that stir craziness. Feet up, losing fitness and having Old Ghost in February looming over my unfit body.
So with that in mind and only 40km to show for this week, here’s the eight-month delayed, 2021 Old Ghost Ultra (OGU) race report. It would’ve come sooner, but a few things got in the way, including work and that virus.
So we begin OGU 2021, way back a year earlier after crossing the line at the 2020 edition. 8:41 and 10 press-ups. It was the greatest race I’ve ever run and most of that was due to dad pacing me and his knowledge of how to run the 85km ultra. Good pacing and nutrition led to sustained energy and we hit every split spot on at each aid station.
For months after I dreamed of racing this well. There was plenty of Friday night binges of Muscle and Dreams and a lot of thought went into how I could better my 2020 race. My two strategies were to train harder than 2020 and to work on the middle section of the race – namely, the climb from Stern Valley up to Ghost Lake Hut. I put in some massive weeks, spent a week on Great Barrier Island with my mates and chucked myself at every gnarly climb possible. Then back in Christchurch, it was mileage. Long runs each weekend, then two long runs a week and speed work. I was training harder than ever, I wanted this race to be my best.
But before the race even starts, we begin on Sunday the 14th of February at about 5.15pm. Family BBQ, news headline, community transmission of Covid-19 in Auckland and the Prime Minister was having a 6pm press conference. Bugger. Out the window, the race goes. Auckland is in Level 3 lockdown, the South Island was in Level 2 and the race going ahead seemed unlikely. Monday and Tuesday seemed to drag on, was that training worth it? Wednesday would tell us more. At 4pm (three days before the race) we learnt that the race was on for all but the competitors from Auckland.
It was action stations, although I did feel for the Auckland folk. It sucks, but that’s the reality of the world we live in now.
And so, we made the annual pilgrimage to Westport. A coffee in Refton and the traditional hat tip to the late Jack Lovelock and then catch-up with the folks at registration. You walk into the NBS Theatre, Jim’s over in the corner, he’ll be wearing a ‘Little Boss’ tee and helping manage the registrations. Grant will be setting up his booth with the assortment of brands he distributes in NZ. Phil will be meeting people, chatting away and finalising his briefing notes. Eventually, Bernard will stroll in, followed by the likes of Ruth, Martin and Vajin; and we know we’re in good company.
Old Ghost briefings are not to be missed, but to avoid spoiling anything, I will keep quiet. Do the race and you’ll be hooked.
After a burger, briefing and a good night to everyone, we sorted our gear and lay down for six hours of peaceful sleep.
It wasn’t that peaceful, the alarm went off at 3am. Into race gear, eat, check some messages, eat a bit more, finalise our gear and out the door. Onto the bus and a few hours later we were on the start-line.
At 6am, for the third time, I headed off onto the Old Ghost Road with a couple of hundred other runners.
This year, I wanted to run my own race. So I headed out at what I thought was a decent pace. Unfortunately, this pace was set by Martin Gaffuri. A great guy and an excellent runner, but a bit too fast for me. But who cares, it was early in the race and it was so much fun! The trails were smooth and in good condition as we followed the Mohikinui River. Having hit the first aid station at Specimen Point in 1:36 last year, I figured 1:30 would be the perfect split. This was where the first ‘oh fuck’ moment occurred, I came through in 1:22 and 11th. Kerry Suter, the SQUADRUN coach and a friend, was the first to tell me to ease up – I was on last years winning pace.
I moved on, easing the pace and trying to enjoy the scenery. The pace was still hot and by the Hanging Judge, I was starting to slow. Nancy caught me at the top of the climb and we both ran down through the Boneyard.
By Stern Valley (42.2km), I was feeling the effects of 4.30 min/kms earlier that morning. I went through the aid station in 3:55 and spent a fair bit of time taking on water and food. I’d cooked it. But I moved on, hoping that a second wind would carry me to Lyell.
I was wrong. 500 metres up the trail I got the worst cramp I’ve ever experienced. I lay down on the trail and swore.
I moved on up the climb. There wasn’t much running, mostly hiking as I tried to take in as much food and water as possible. Out onto the tops and Ghost Lake Hut was in sight. I was feeling pretty broken by this stage, but I knew that it was downhill from the Hut and that cheered me up. I’ve talked about the climb to Ghost Lake previously, so I’ll go light this time. It’s a brutal mixture of suffering.
At Ghost Lake, I met Kerry and Phil and they informed me that dad had gained some time on me. The hope of running below eight hours had gone out the window and now it was a salvage mission. I’d come into the aid station in 5:55 and while that was five minutes faster than 2020, I knew that my hopes of a decent race had been blown.
I moved on and five kilometres later, dad caught me. Lee, a fellow Hombre and running buddy, was just up the trail so we joined up with him and slowly clicked away at the last 25km. It was coke and painkillers time. Lee had never run sub-9 hours at OGU, so we agreed that we’d do everything we could to get him home in a PB.
I don’t remember much of the last hour, but I was glad to get to the end in one piece. 8:53 and 19th. Another sub-9 with dad and this time with Lee as well.
Learnings from the 2021 edition? Don’t start too hard. Eat and drink lots. Enjoy the opportunity.
I’d wanted to run under the eight-hour mark and while I didn’t achieve that this year, it was a race of learnings that I have banked for the next time I race from Seddonvile to Lyell.
The race concluded with a late-night, it’s now a Kepes tradition to cheer in all the competitors and help with the pack down in the early hours of the morning. A few hours on the mic and live stream and a few helping people find their bags or handing them a beer. The miners who once marked the early trail back in the gold rush hailed from strong West Coast communities, where everyone looked out for each other as they wandered the hills trying to make a living.
170-odd years later, this race is about community and as the evening drew closer, it was nice to raise a beer to the history of this place. 2021 has had its ups and downs, but there is always 2022. I’ll be back.
Yonni Kepes 