My friend Jade ran Tarawera Ultra Marathon 60km in 2014 during Cyclone Lusi. The following year I did the 60km in perfect conditions. 2016 is her year for 100km - and while it's not technically a cyclone, in some ways the weather conditions are even more difficult.
Days and days of heavy rain see the trails absolutely sodden, race reports abound of the difficulty of running the boggy slippery trails. In the days after the event we learn that it was the lowest success rate of any TUM year, and they ran out of 65km medals due to the number of people downgrading to the shorter distance after not making their goals.
Heading into TUM 'we' are feeling strong. I feel like there is definitely a 'we' in this. This event has focussed my run training and given me a goal - hers is to get to the finish line. Mine is to get her there. We've trained hard, worked out our required pace to make cut off and ran our training on race specific trails to stay within the cut off times. We have had very clear discussions over our hours of travelling and training. She IS to get to the finish line, through all pain and hurts and injuries. I've checked with her husband who is also adamant that finishing is the only option.
As I wait in the persistent rain at the Tarawera Outlet, time creeps along. Jade has been running, drenched, since before the sun came up. She comes through with a smile, and I set off with her on my 45km adventure to her 100km finish line in Kawerau. The trails through to Tarawera Falls are lovely, and I'm trying to gauge Jade's day so far, her energy levels, motivation and the toll the mudfest has taken on her so far. I'm also calculating the pace we need to get to Titoki before the cut off - or we get short coursed on to the 85km. Through all our training, we pushed to meet cut off pace, but I never thought we'd be racing for it. I realise as we approach the Falls, that we need to race for it, and Jade and I have a frank conversation. Having refuelled just 5km earlier, changed socks and had a brief rest, she has no plans to waste time at this aide station. This is where the 65km runners finish, so there are lots of spectators and quite an atmosphere. However, we ignore it all, take the chute for the 85 and 100 km runners, and with Jade leading the way and me on her tail we head straight back out onto the road.
(Jade tells me later that as we ran through here, the announcer called her name over the loudspeaker saying that her pacer obviously had the cutoff in mind and was keeping her going. I didn't hear a thing, as I was so focussed on pace calculations and working out how best to increase our speed when Jade had worked so hard for so long already.)
That 12kms I'll always remember as one of the hardest things I've done. That's quite hilarious when I wasn't the one who had run through 60km of bogfest! But in front of me was a friend, exhausted and in pain, and every time she slowed down I told her to speed up. When she walked up a hill I made her start running again as soon as it flattened. Every time she faltered I slapped her with that cutoff reminder and made her life hell. I'm not sure that pacing really fits with my life philosophy, as I ran behind her with tears on my cheeks just wanting to say "You've done brilliantly, this is way too hard, in these conditions 85km would still be a great achievement."
She chatted for a while with another runner who was really struggling on their own. When we were separated from them for a bit, I wondered if we should encourage them to stick with us to the cut off. "I don't need friends right now" was the gist of her reply. Focussed!
12km later, with a few minutes to spare, we ran out of Titoki Aid Station and had our own mini celebration. It's funny how the race can feel won with 28km still to run. Jade is so strong, I knew there was no stopping her now. We made our way through the "Loop of Despair", we made our way along the forestry roads, we ran into the darkness and on through the darkness. Relentless forward motion and now Jade was hunting people down. As we saw headlights in the distance, her pace would pick up just slightly until we had caught, passed them and left them behind.
102 km to Kawerau and as Jade ran through to the finish line with a decent amount of form, I was able to slip around the outside of the finish chute. Standing in the dark, watching her hug her husband and greet friends, I was overwhelmed with what she had achieved in the toughest TUM yet. My presumption had been that pacing would be a natural progression to signing up for the 102km myself the following year. She is so strong, so balanced in her strength, so determined - it made me consider my knee pains during my 60km, and doubt the likelihood that 100km would be within my body's limits.
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