NZ men’s team post World Mountain Running Champs.

The World Mountain Running Championships took place last weekend on a spectacular course that climbed through two beautiful little Tuscan villages, bush and mountain rocks into a massive white marble quarry in the Apuan Alps.

Several regulars described the course to me as the most technical and complicated uphill course they had ever seen.

While it climbed ’only’ 900 over the 11.8km course it had extensive flat and downhill sections, which meant the uphill sections were compressed into much less distance, making them very steep.

There were a significant amount of stairs, going both up and downhill, and rocky, uneven terrain that reduced most runners to a walk.

And most importantly there were often narrow tracks and paths with sharp turns that limited the runners to single file, unable to pass for large parts of the course.

This meant runners had to choose to get to the front very quickly so they did not get caught behind slower runners – and walkers – in the narrow sections. Paradoxically though, this quick start probably reduced many runners to a walk earlier than they should have.

Knowing how tough the latter parts of the course were I was not brave enough to change my traditional approach to a race and I went out cautiously. I was quickly near the back of a large field of about 160 runners. And quickly stuck in a long, long string of single-file runners whom it was hard to pass.

I simply had to remind myself each time to be patient, and use the chance to rest up in anticipation of the tough climbs yet to come. Slowly I worked my way through the field, catching up with three of my teammates and lodging myself in the midst of a group of Irish runners, and one Australian, who became my target for the day.

Once we emerged out of the steepest section, a narrow rocky gully, into the quarry space opened up and I started to pick people off on the uphill climbs.

But there were still some significant flat and downhill sections to come and despite trying to conserve my energy earlier my legs did not have enough left in them for the final 1500 of climbing. Like everyone else around me I was reduced to a slow grind as we wound our way up through the throngs of Italian supporters who leaned in on to the course imploring us on in much the same way as crowds do on climbs in the Tour de France.

I finished 78th and our NZ team finished 12th – behind the big mountain running powers but tied on points with Germany, ahead of Russia and comfortably in front of Australia. My personal Australian rival got away from me in the flat parts of the quarry though so I lost that battle. This was my first appearance at the the World Champs, and it was great to be part of a full Kiwi team of senior men in the race. I hope our performance is a platform that future teams can build on. In particular Jono (32nd) and Glenn (38th) showed NZ is close to having a strong team again that can sit comfortably among the best mountain running countries in the world.

No one in the mountain running community is unaware that many athletes don’t hold mountain running in high regard. Even I would never argue that it should be a blue riband event, sitting alongside the 1500 metres or the marathon.

However I do think it is time we placed an increased emphasis on mountain running’s importance in the athletics pantheon.

Athletics is searching for a bridge between its formal, structured events and the growing popularity of trail running.

Cross country can be part of that bridge, and yet cross country suffers from a perception that it is both elite, and old fashioned – something people were forced to do at school.

Mountain running is unknown enough in New Zealand, and thus lacking in preconceived stereotypes that it might help bridge the gap. It’s already established in parts of the world – notably the European countries with Alps – and it can be dramatic and spectacular in that ’Red Bull extreme’ sort of way that appeals to some in the public. What it lacks in New Zealand, and many other countries is a crossover between established top runners and the trail running community.

That is why it is so important to see runners like Jono Jackson and Sally Gibbs involved. It gives us a measure of the quality the other runners involved.

If someone were to beat Jono by 5 or 6 minutes over 12km on the flat, as the Ugandan mountain running winners did on Sunday, we can classify that as a world class performance.

Likewise, when Jono easily beat runners on Sunday who have run 29 minutes for 10km on the flat we know not all runners can make the conversion that Jono did from elite road runner to elite mountain runner.

I would like to see more road and cross country runners giving mountain running a go.

And I would also like to see more trail runners drop down in distance to give mountain running a go. Bring those technical climbing skills you have and match them against the raw speed of road runners.

Let’s see if we can find the right blend of the two that can be the next generation of New Zealand mountain running teams to take on the world.

World Mountain Running Champs Results

IN THE LEAD BUT NOT IN THE LEAD.

I don’t know why I started writing.  Maybe I was bored, or a failure at something else. I don’t remember. Writing is the same as running. No matter how much enthusiasm and effort you put into it, if you totally lack literary talent and a way with words you can forget about being a novelist. You’re either born a writer or you’re not. However, you might still be able to bang out the odd good yarn, in the same way that an average club runner might produce the odd sparkling performance. Whenever I try to write about a subject, I am overcome with this feeling that I am being swallowed up by a sea of words. It takes weeks to prise a simple paragraph from the maze of my subconscious. There’s very little that remains of my memories of the final edition of the Mt Roy Challenge, 17th January, 1998, apart from an old, slightly out of focus photograph and a page from my training diary. I’d been in New Zealand just two weeks, but having spent those weeks on the East Coast battling terrible winds and torrential rain, I was probably well prepared for Mt Roy.

TRAINING DIARY.

It was my first mountain race. I don’t really remember too much about it. The photo is of me on the lower slopes, not long after the start, already a fair way ahead of the scratch runners. Of course, there were many others ahead of me, including the winner Andrea Priestly, an English International mountain runner, who had been given a stupendous 30 minute head start over me and who collected the $500 first prize (I took 27 minutes out of her, but that was three too few. I took home $150 for second place). I also remember meeting race organiser Andy Town the evening before the race and suggesting I could probably run to the summit in 50 minutes. I had hiked up and down the peak that day in 6 hours with a small child on my back so had a pretty good idea how long it might take sans enfant. Andy let us camp under the race marquee that night and the next day I ran to the top in 50 minutes. The descent was bad. I remember stopping to retie my shoe laces a couple of times, not because they really needed adjusting, just to relieve the pain in my quads. When I finished my white Nike road flats were red from toe to tongue with blood. I had lifted all of my toe-nails.

Wouldn’t it be great if someone were to resurrect this bitch of a race? Someone with a passion for mountain running, who lived and worked in the vicinity of Wanaka, who had the contacts to get a good sponsor on board and a good field of runners on the start-line? Wouldn’t it be great? If someone doesn’t, one day soon I’m going to return to New Zealand  and do it myself.

More from Martin Cox’s here on his blog.

A big thanks to Andrew Town for sending this to us and to Derek for allowing us to share this great story on what is now a some what legendary mountain running race. I highly recommend checking out Derek’s “Adventure Blog” HERE.

A sample of the terrain on offer at the Raglan Karioi Trail

Last weekend I got the opportunity to run in the inaugural Raglan Karioi Trail race. My calf muscles had only just recovered from The Goat the previous weekend so I thought it would be a great end of season play on a hill that I haven’t been up before. Billed as “Not the longest but the steepest” I was quite intrigued. So up before sparrows fart I shot across to start on the southern side of Mount Karioi which towers 756 metres above Raglan. I became more intrigued when I over heard a few people talking about the ladders on the first ascent and the chains on the descent. The course was fairly straight forward… over the mountain, around a little bit, a small farm loop then back over up a different track to the top then down to the start/ finish. 25km and 1850 metres ascent and descent. Nice.
The morning was crisp, clear and looking as though it would be a warm one.  Reading that there would be two drink stations out on the course I decided to rely on the water out on the course but take a few gels with me to minimize weight. I know that I’m not much of a camel when comes to going without water but I decided to make a real effort to use the drink stations instead of just rushing past and hoping some of the water in the cup would hit the back of my throat. I was guessing that it would take around the 3 hour mark with so much climbing.
With over 60 on the start line and a few more at the half way point in teams it was a promising start for race director Francios Mazet.
The initial climb through the farm gradually steepened before we hit the bush line at about 1.5km in where I could no longer here anyone behind me. The ascent to the top was largely runnable with the exception of a few ladders. The views were amazing and the track to the summit was in great condition. After that the track turned into a whole lot of gnarly rooty muddy fun across the tops with steep descents added to the mix. To top it off the start of the main descent was a slippery muddy rock cliff with two sections of chains about 50 metres long. Another 5 degrees steeper and it would been worthy of abseiling equipment. Such fun!
Approaching the bottom of the chain and I heard Raglan local Tom Wellby at the top of the chain. I cruised on down the hill and gradually Tom caught up but seemed to be content to sit behind me. It stayed that way until we hit the road. I downed a gel and ran over to the drink station. After the first gulp from the cup I heard Tom race offf down the road with a bottle in his hand thanks to his supporter. Reacting to the pressure I dropped my cup and immediately gave chase. A few seconds later when I was still  thirsty I regretted it.
I eventually caught up with Tom down the road, we had a two word conversation and I put in a little surge up the hill to make a bit of a break by the time I got to the farm loop. Reduced to a walk as the hills got steeper my lead grew. Approaching the top however I missed an arrow and headed across the paddock following the tyre marks through the long grass. Realizing the mistake I began heading back as Tom called back to the last marshal to ask for directions. By the time I had back tracked to the point where I went wrong we were all tied up again. We barreled down the hill back to the road. By this time I was pretty keen to see the next drink station before we hit he biggest climb of the day, back to the top of Mt Karioi. A wasp sting to the forehead took my mind off my thirst for a short time but it didnt do much for my energy levels. The drink station at the Karioi Lodge was a welcome sight. I made sure I had a descent drink this time with no sign of Tom behind me.
The day was heating up but the rest of the course was under bush cover which was some relief. More walking than running was going on at this stage and by the time I met up with marshal at the top with 5 km to go, the offer of a bottle of water seemed like all my Christmas’ had come at once. The down hill was great fun under no pressure. Through the farmland and after a purposeful route through the deep part of the stream crossing and it was all over in 3:15:22. Consistent performer Stephan Wagner came through for second 10 minutes later with Tom Wellby fading to third by 50 seconds on the final downhill. Kovo Kowalewski backed up her win at the 60km Taniwha, winning the woman’s race in 3:44.
The slow times for 25 km is a good indication that the course is not just steep, but technical as well. If you’re looking for a pre Christmas hit out to burn off a few calories that will inevitably be replaced then this is the race for you. Amazing scenery, fun technical tracks and a well put together race.  Race director Francois Mazet is also talking about a smaller version for the kids next year.
Thanks again to Karhu Shoes for getting me through another race. Time for a few weeks off to get fat then start again next year with a few new adventures up my sleeve with the new Karhu Flow Trail on my feet.

Raglan Karioi Trail Full Results

BCR “of the Year” Polls- we are giving you folks the chance to recognise and acknowledge the people and events that have stood out for you during 2013.

We will close the polls this time in a week- Friday 20th December.

A few things re the polls-

• Try not turn these into a popularity contest- be as objective and fair as possible. If it is just a popularity vote then it loses what little creditability it might have had and is also unfair to others.
• We have looked at New Zealand mountain, ultra and trail (MUT) races, runners and events. Some of the performances have been by New Zealanders based off shore.
• There is a spot you can add your own selection

Thanks for all your amazing support this year! BCR has grown heaps this year- and it has been down to all the support it has received with people reading the blog and supplying great content- Cheers!

The 58th Kawerau King of the Mountain was set to be a one of the best show downs in recent years. The track was in great condition, the day was fine but not as hot as the previous years scorcher and both the men’s and women’s fields were looking strong. I was returning after winning last year and feeling pretty good after a win a few weeks earlier at the Xterra trail champs in Waihi. Previous winner Sjors Corporaal was looking fit and said he was feeling good. Australian Ben Duffus who won the sister race, the Pomona king of the Mountain in July and the Surf Coast Century 100km race in September was also feeling good but had only at a look at the lower slopes of Mount Edgecumbe (Putuaki). I don’t think I have ever done an off road race where the potential top three were all feeling good with no excuses.
In contrast the two top women both had injury clouds hanging over them. Helen Rountree, last years winner and winner at Pomona said she only turned up to bring the trophy back. Despite being injured, Helen wanted to improve on last years effort and hopefully get closer to the hour mark. Ruby Muir also recovering from an injury, who is certainly not new to mountain running was fronting up for the first time at Kawerau after a solid run to win the Xterra trail champs a few weeks earlier as well.

KOTM Start- Ohope Express

The scene was set for a great race. For the second race in a row I got a bit boxed in at the start easing into my work before hitting the first road up hill 20 seconds after the gun. Feeling good I changed my tactics from previous years and decided to push hard all the way to the base of the mountain. Local junior Glen Tarboton  and Teunis Schonveld who had both set times around the 56 minute mark in training lead to the top of the first hill. I passed Teunis at the crest of the hill and continued to chase Glen. I knew I had company as I heard spectators cheering for Sjors. Nearing the base I finally caught Glen, we exchanged a few encouraging words and headed to start of the single track. 100 metres before we left the road Ben glided by and slipped in front of me. I regarded Ben as a serious contender and he obviously had ambitions of leading at the base. But so did I. I put in a little surge to regain the lead just before the single track. Ben followed close behind a Sjors was on his tail. Within a few minutes Ben reclaimed the lead and I was content to follow at that stage.
With the overall king of the mountain title up for grabs there were a few races within the race going on. Sjors and I were out to beat Ben to make sure a kiwi won, but at the same time the race between Sjors and I was intense with a trip to Australia up for grabs. At the first drink station the three of us had a clear lead over the rest of the field. The running stopped at about a third of the way up where the gradient pitched up to about 45degrees to the top. From there it was hands on knees or grabbing vegetation to help with the ascent. Ben started to fade so I took the opportunity to push harder and went by again. With the gradient being so steep I could look down at my feet and could see Sjors had followed suit to keep in contact. Gradually I managed to shake him and lost sight the few times a had a sneaky look back. Knowing that I would need as much lead by the top as I could get if I was to remain in front I started to push harder.
Nearing the top Paul Charteris gave me a few encouraging words. After the hair pin at the summit I heard more encouraging words from Paul. This time they weren’t for me. I figured Sjors must have been close to the top.

Chris and Sjors- Phope express

I felt as though my descent was going well. Back through the drink station at the skid sight I was still in front. After the drink station I dug it in over a small climb that would be known as “No, I didn’t notice it” in any other race, before gliding to the final steepest down hill section of the course. At that point, within 300 metres of the base I heard footsteps. I didn’t look behind but I knew who it was. I’m not sure if I thought a rude word or actually said it out loud. As we hit the base I was still in front with about 800m to go. Sjors was right on my shoulder so I moved aside and let him pass on the last of the single track. Hoping that I wasn’t done yet I hit the road with 500m to go a few seconds behind. Sjors eased away up the final 100m long climb before the descent to the finish. I faded as I watched him glide away.
Sjors set a new PB of 47:55 breaking his previous mark by about 10 seconds. The 35 second advantage I had gained on the way up had been erased by the base and almost reversed by the finish. I crossed the line in 48:29, a PB by 38 seconds. My second race for team Karhu New Zealand and my second PB.
Returning to running after an extended break, Murupara runner Lance Downie came through for an impressive third in 51:20 with Ben Duffus just under a minute behind in his first shot at the race.
Glen Tarboton improved on last years 2nd place in the juniors to win and slashed minutes of his previous best time.
As we tried to recover, news was coming through that the women’s race was hotting up. Helen had led to the top in under 40 minutes but Ruby had caught back up by the time they reached the skid. Similar to the men’s race they were still together at the base. We all waited at the finish to see who would come around the final corner first. Helen emerged still full of running to cross the line the best part of 6 minutes faster than last year and 46 seconds under the hour mark. A shoeless Ruby Muir crossed the line 30 seconds later to also break the hour. The first time in the history of the race that the first two women have achieved this.
The trio of Sjors, Helen and Glen will be joined by 57 year old Colin Earwaker who won the 40+ section, to represent New Zealand at the Pomona king of the mountain in Australia next July. All the best to them. All deserving champions and I’m sure they will do us proud.
Look forward to a rematch next year.

Kawerau king of the Mountain facebook page

Paul Charteris photos

We will follow the marathon course and at approx 21km later (halfway in the marathon) we will be greeted by our hosts – John & Ginny at the Ben Lomond Lodge for afternoon tea and time to laze a round in the sunshine, stretch and take in the views before enjoying a hearty feast. Dinner time fun and banter is inevitable whilst enjoying a few quiet beers and vinos! The group will be in shared accommodation at the lodge – where the early morning sunshine will naturally wake you up for breakfast before some more fun on the trails (approx 21km) bound for Moke Lake (marathon finish).

This all inclusive package including 4WD transport, mid afternoon snack, dinner, bed and breakfast at the Ben Lomond Lodge and two fantastic trail running days on the private Ben Lomond Station -all for a very reasonable $249 per person.
If this is for you please call or email Adrian on 021 991 899 / adrian@activeqt.co.nz
Keep on running!
Adrian

Shotover Moonlight Marathon  Website

Shotover Moonlight Marathon Facebook page

BCR’s 2013 Shotover Moonlight Marathon Race preview HERE

A Brief History Of The 52 Finest Mountain Races That I Have Raced

In Approximate Order With A Brief Thought On Each;

Or

Have Your Adventures, Make Your Mistakes, And Choose Your Friends Poorly –

All These Things Make For Great Stories.

      1. Shotover Moonlight Mountain Marathon, Queenstown, New Zealand. A race of steep mountains, technical ridge running, ankle-busting contours, and deep river crossings. You’re permitted to run these unmanicured sheep-trods and gold-rush era water-races on one day of the year only – the day of this perfect race. Former Welshman Adrian Bailey is the brains behind the event. His philosophy, Freedom is something that dies unless it is used.

2. Schlickeralmlauf, Telfes, Austria. THE classic uphill-only race. I won here in 2001 and 2002 – a golden age for this sort of event, the kind of peak that never comes again. I’ve spent many months camping and training high up in the mountains of the Stubai, sometimes alone, sometimes with a wildly argumentative Australian. This was where I banished the ghosts of too many schools and bailed on the tyranny of the rat-race. This was where I learnt to drink wine and live life well and laugh at the odds and RUN up mountains. I still have stuff – food, trainers, running kit – stashed under an old hut up there.

3. Graubuenden Marathon, Lenzerheide, Switzerland. My first marathon. It climbs and climbs and climbs, and then when you think the climbing’s over you turn a corner and it climbs a whole lot more. Braved the storm here six times with a couple of wins and a couple of epic fails. Not a race to go looking for; a race that will find you when it thinks you’re ready.

4. The Annapurna Trail, Dolpo, Nepal. I didn’t run in this race. It’s a race for the wealthy. The French organisers charge a small fortune for the honour of running the trail over 10 days. I ran the 300km(ish) trail early in 2003 with my buddy Pete in 36(ish) hours over 4(ish) days. This was before anyone came up with the bright idea of commercialising the thing, so I’m not sure if that counts as a race. But running in the Himalayas was, for me, the first time I took things to another (and dare I say the next) level. If you want out of the labels and the branding, if you don’t want your life summed up by a single word; if you want something else, unknowable and undefined, some place to be that’s not on the map, something chaotic, try starting somewhere in the Himalaya.

5. Drei Zinnen Alpine Run, Sesto, Italy. After messing around with various distances and routes over the years the organisers have finally settled on the original 17km of steep rocky Dolomite madness. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to Jono Wyatt at his best, passing him on the steep, awkward descent a kilometer from the finiish, only to be re-passed with jelly-legs on the final climb. It’s also the most cake and grappa I’ve ever consumed post-race. I won here in 2006 after many years of not winning.

6. Val Gardena Extreme Marathon, Ortisei, Italy. Not a marathon. It was originally an Half, but now it’s 12km and goes up another mountain – to the characterless Seceda rather than the iconic Forcella Sassolungo. But it’s still the Dolomites and I love the Dolomites, I want to have babies with the Dolomites. The Alps are a merciless and indifferent range of mountains, inhabited by trolls and dragons; the Dolomites are peaceful by comparison, home to pixies and leprechauns.

Grossglockner 2002

7. Grossglockner Berglauf, Heiligenblut, Austria. A colourful race over very mixed terrain that finishes at a multi-story car-park. In 2001 I was riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave, I had momentum, and the 71 minutes I clocked that year was the best race I’ve ever ran, so far. 2006 was another memorable year in Heiligenblut. Accompanied by messers Wyatt and Brown, I made a record-breakingly slow and clumsy ascent of The Grossglockner (3798m).

      8. The Kepler, Te Anau, New Zealand. My first ultra. Most ultra runners will tell you 60km does not qualify as an ultra. Most marathon runners will tell you it does. It seemed like a bloody long way to me at the time, particularly after traversing a pretty significant lump of rock in the first 30km. In 2005 I ran it in 5 hours, finishing a subdued and knackered second to the great Phil Costley.

9. Thyon-Dixence, Val de Herens, Switzerland. From the depressing concrete structure of Thyon 2000 to the depressing concrete structure of the Dixence Dam, a very un-Swisslike ten mile cross-country-style mountain race – fast, hilly, some really crappy single-track, all at over 2000m. It’s a real leveller. Improbably, my best run came in 2008 at the age of 38 – 2^nd in 72 minutes.

10. Karwendel Berglauf, Mittenwald, Germany. There is huge body of evidence to support the notion that trying to run fast up very steep mountains is a sign of insanity. Exhibit one: The Karwendelauf. 10Km and 1400m up the virtually unrunnable scree of the Damkar, Germany’s longest ski run. How can all that rock defy gravity; why hasn’t already rolled to the bottom of the mountain? Jono Wyatt broke an hour here. What else can you say to big-up a race?

11. The Goat, Tongariro National Park, New Zealand. At some point, your memories, your stories, your adventures, will be the only things you’ll have left. I could write a book about this one, or at least the chapter of a book. The most technical mountain race I’ve ever attempted and completed. The first recce of this 21km course took me 5 hours. I eventually ran it in just under 2 hours. I am not sure how, it seems improbable to me now. New Zealand seems to specialise in this sort of race.

12. Llanbedr to Blaenafon, Black Mountains/Brecon Beacons, Wales. A long, mountainous, runnable point-to-point fell race, requiring some skilled navigation through Abergavenny town centre and finishing with an grovelling ascent of the formidable and ridiculous Blorenge. I won it in 2011 in perfect weather conditions; it would have been a quite different story in the rain and cloud.

13. Challenge Stellina, Susa, Italy. I was twice second to Mr Wyatt here. A historic race, with an actual Catholic mass, and unlimited amounts of wine and grappa and mouldy cheese at the finish. Last man off the mountain is the real winner.

14. Snowdon Marathon, Llanberis, Wales. My first road marathon in 2003. I won in 2:36. The pass of Waun Fawr at mile 21 is what makes this almost a true mountain race. I also won in 2008 during what meteorologists called a hurricane but in North Wales was described as typical October Bank Holiday weather.

15. Aletsch Half-Marathon, Bettmeralp, Switzerland. What is there to say about the Aletsch Glacier; it’s like a vision, an hallucination, a glacier seen through eyes dilated by acid. I was stunned the first time I saw it, like the first time I saw the Matterhorn; all of a sudden it was there looming up in front of me. But despite the otherworldliness of the place, this race starts high and goes much higher and hurting is an unavoidable reality whether you’re in the fast lane or on vacation.

16. Cross du Mont Blanc, Chamonix, France. In times gone past this was one of the biggest money races on the calendar. I banked 2000 Euro (minus taxes!!!) for 2^nd place in 2002. But the forked tongue of fate set this event on a different path and The Cross has been relegated to mere fun run status in favour of the Marathon du Mont Blanc. The trail to Plan Praz via Flegere remains one of the most stunning trails in mountain running though and both races traverse it.

17. Northburn, Cromwell, New Zealand. I had entered the 100 miler (7000m deniv) and been bigging myself up for months, then developed a fortuitous last-minute niggle and ended up running the 50km fun run (a mere 2600m deniv). What a fucking coward! A beautiful, evil, windy, parched, cold, barren, mountainous, merciless, confusing place. No place for a race of any kind, let alone an ultra.

18. The Jungfrau Marathon, Interlaken, Switzerland. During September there is something fresh and crisp about those first few early morning hours in Interlaken; a happy anticipation that something is about to happen. This is my sort of course, if ever there was such a thing. 16 miles of flat. 10 miles of hill. In 2008 I was flabbergasted to shuffle past all but one of the favourites on the hill. Since then it’s all been downhill. I no longer get an invite even.

Glacier 3000 Run 2008

19. Glacier 3000 Run, Gstaad, Switzerland. Not the Aletsch Glacier, not much to look at, but you do get to run across it. Also my sort of course. 10 miles of flat. 6 miles of hill. I won the first four editions and still hold the course record despite the best efforts of young Joseph Gray this year.

      20. Sierre-Zinal, Val de Annivers, Switzerland. If mountain running has such a thing as a savage heart, then this race is it. And if there is such a thing as a jinx race, then this is mine. I have a heap of DNF’s and truly woeful performances just under the 3 hour mark. In 2006, for example, I fell on the CLIMB and knocked myself senseless. I always have a sense of impending doom just before the start in that lay-by down in Sierre, but it is my restless idealism and vagrant optimism that keeps me returning. And I love training on this course, it’s such an unique trail. The climb was always my favourite bit, and in 2002 I was 3^rd when the course was shortened, oh joy, to just the climb.

21. Matterhornlauf, Zermatt, Switzerland. The first mountain race I won in the Alps. It was 1998 and I had a great battle with Scotsman Bobby Quinn. Sadly axed by it’s sponsers in favour of a more fashionable event after 30 extraordinary years (the race that is, not Bobby). Just goes to show: nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart.

22. Matterhorn Ultraks, Zermatt, Switzerland. History is filled with brilliant people who wanted to fix things and just made them worse. I so much wanted to hate this race, the new-improved Matterhornlauf, but the 30km course I ran this year was epic. I finished feeling thoroughly used-up and totally worn-out and wishing I’d had the balls to get out of bed two hours earlier to start the 46km. And wishing that I’d done more of these kind of races fifteen years ago. When you’re young you can survive the brutal overindulence of running steep mountains regularly.

23. Barr Trail Race, Manitou Springs, USA. We runners, we run not because we want to live longer, but because we want to live life to the fullest, not in a fog. There’s no greater test of the runners individual limits than Pikes Peak. It’s the essence of what mountain running is about. Barr Trail goes halfway up and halfway down Pikes, a soft introduction but a pretty wonderful thing all the same. It was my last day in the States and I bashed out the full-monty the day after Barr Trail in order to win a rather childish bet with race organiser and bona-fide legend Matt Carpenter.

24. Les KM de Chando, Chandolin, Switzerland. Who knows if there is in fact a heaven or a hell, all we know for sure is that hell will be a viciously steep never-ending series of switch-backs, slippery with mud and trecherous with loose rocks. Celebrating only it’s second year, this nutty double vertical race is set to become a classic. The first time I ever felt the need to wield the wizard sticks in anger.

25. Zugspitze Extreme Berglauf, Ehrwald, Germany. Infamous race to the summit of Deutschland’s highest peak. Not especially extreme though. I was the somewhat confused and surprised winner in 2005 after getting lost in the mad fog that so often shrouds the calamitous moraine below the summit. Apparently the course marshalls had temporarily abandoned their posts to see what could be found at the bottom of a big bottle of schnapps. Somehow I remain the course record holder.

26. Monte Faudo, Iberia, Italy. Shit hot road race with a big mountain finish. I was third here in 2008, passing a boat-load of Morrocans in the final 5km. Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube; in other words, slow is good, but fast is better. 

27. Hochfelln Berglauf, Bergen, Germany. Iconic short(ish), steep(ish) uphill only couse. The perfect end of season race. It’s appeal is further heightened by the proximity of Bergen to Munich and the Octoberfest. Race boss Bibi Angfang is usually the most hospitable, generous,and likeable German in mountain running, unless you try to fuck with his race.

28. The Inferno, Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland. At 3000m, the Schilthorn provides one of the highest finishes to any mountain race in the Alps. More interestingly: (a) they filmed an early James Bond film up there; and (b) the restaurant revolves thanks to some massive clockwork gizmo operated by trolls.

29. Dolomitten Marathon, Brixen, Italy. Climbs for 2500m without you really noticing it, so taken aback are you by the ever-expanding views of the Dolomites. This race is like a fairytale, it really is, just so long as you like your fairytales to include a little bit of suffering. I competed here once, in 2012 and, Bahrain aside, it was the hottest weather conditions I ever raced in. Thirty five freaking degrees at the start. Then again, the beer at the finish was the finest, coldest beer I’ve ever drank, which kind of balanced things out.

ZERMATT MARATHON, 2013.

30. Zermatt Marathon, Zermatt, Switzerland. More and more it has felt like I am doing a bad impersonation of myself. So to finish fifth here this year in my fastest ever time was a reaffirmation that I am still able to raise the bar if need be, that I am not yet a piece of drftwood washed up on the shore The gods have been good to me, they’ve kept me alive, feeling the goodness of good people, feeling the miracle of fitness run up my arm and down my spine like a crazy mouse. I just hope this wasn’t a cameo appearance.

31. Troi dei Cimbri, Fregona, Italy. A tough little skyrace in an unspolit corner of the Dolomites. In 2005 I finished a distant second to the legendary Lucio Fregona. Such was his love of competition, Lucio tried to force-feed me bananas and lollies at the penultimate aid station when he saw that I was bonking. I think this proves the old addage that we race not purely to beat each other, but also to be with each other. Interesting fact: the Cimbri are forest-dwelling pixies that live entirely on pizza quattro formaggi con funghi.

32. Tour des Alpages, Anzere, Switzerland. I’ve lived and worked and trained in this charmless Swiss ski resort for longer than I care to remember. But Anzere is a great place to steer clear of all the bullshit in this weird and cruel world. There are a few dragons left in these mountains, if you venture far enough and high enough. And it’s cool that Anzere has it’s own race. It’s 10 miles of mainly cowfields, up and down.

33. Mount Snowdon, Llanberis, Wales. Even a sub-40 minute ascent was insufficient to secure a win in 1998. I was passed by eleven guys on my way down the mountain, but ran a respectable 68 something minutes. My first real experience with delayed onset muscle soreness put me off up and down racing for many years.

34. Course de Lac du Bouget, Aix-le-Bains, France. A superb race for those requiring a little end of season luxary and sunshine. Unfortunately it’s 60km and bloody hilly and includes a three-person relay which serves only to lead astray and befuddle the hapless solo runner. Twas my first win in an ultra-distance race.

35. Motatapu, Wanaka, New Zealand. Before she lost the Motatapu sheep station in a rather costly divorce settlement, American songstress Shania Twain had the whole place reseeded as the native grass wasn’t green enough. Or so the story goes. Undulating rather than mountainous, it’s a mountain marathon for those who prefer to gaze up at the mountains in wonder rather than run over them. I enjoyed it in 2006 after the nightmare that was The Kepler.

36. The Coast-To-Coast, Arthur’s Pass, New Zealand. Actually a multi-sport race, but for a king’s ransom you can now run the mountain leg as part of a relay team or as an individual. The course follows the aptly-named Deception River and is largely an unmarked and unrunnable mine-field of house-sized boulders, whirlpools and rapids, and impenetrable bush. I was told after the race, in which I got hopelessly lost, that a few reccies with someone who knows the way are essential to avoid getting hopelessly lost. New Zealand seems to specialise in this sort of race.

37. Haldi Berglauf, Schattdorf, Switzerland. It may have been Mark Twain who pointed out that it’s far easier to go down a hill than up, but the view is much better from the top. The Haldi is just an awesome, relaxing little uphill-only race, with an epic view from the top. The type of race in which Switzerland seems to abound.

38. St James Stampede Ultra, Hanmer Springs, New Zealand. The more rivers you cross, the more you know about rivers. It was definitely Mark Twain who said that. I am not a swimmer and getting completely lost on the hottest day of the year with co-leaders Vajin Armstrong and Martin Lukes and having to cross the raging Waimau River somewhat spoilt my day out in one of the most unspoilt wilderness regions of New Zealand. For me, a few arrows here and a couple of flags there would have improved the race immeasurably. It turned out that some environmental terrorists, worried about the damage caused by bunting, had removed the course markers.

39. Ovronnaz – Cabane Rambert, Ovronnaz, Switzerland. 8Km and 1600m up into the first snows of the season. I have ran here just the once, in 1998, and came in second to Thierry Icart, the only Frenchman I know to have worn Walshes. I often wonder if they still hand out as much wine as you can drink at each of the aid stations on the walk back down.

40. Cross de Velan, Bourg St. Pierre, Switzerland. A cracking little race up to the surprisingly well-stocked and reasonably-priced bar at the Cabane du Velan, followed by another unsteady hike back down. In order to keep up with the times, the organisers have just added a pretty brutal looking 45km skyrun which I am itching to have a crack at. So many great races though, and so few weekends in July.

41. Neirivue – Le Moleson, Fribourg, Switzerland. With the rise of ultra-sky-trail-running, or whatever the hell they’re rebranding mountain running as currently, great uphill-only races like this may one day soon be unfashionable and rare, like those yellow Lance Armstrong wrist-bands. I thought I had this one in the bag in 2006, until I walked into the restaurant the night before the race. Jono Wyatt, Marco de Gasperi and Helmut Schiessel had not shown up merely to sample the local fondue.

42. Morat – Fribourg, Fribourg, Switzerland. Not a true mountain race. Well, to be honest, not even close to being a mountain race. It’s a road race with hills. Jono Wyatt holds the record. But along with the fearsome Marvejols-Mende (which I have never ran), this is a must-do for any self-respecting mountain runner. This is the fast-lane folks, and some of us like it here occasionally. Let the chips fall where they may.

43. The Terminator, Vale of Pewsey, England. Not really a mountain race either. But it’s about as mountainous as you can get in my old stomping ground of The Cotswolds. Some of the climbs require fixed ropes and crampons though. There’s also a pleasant 100m long section of ditch filled with rotting vegetables and slurry just before the finish. They love this kind of thing in the West Country.

44. Soltn Berghalbmarathon, San Genesio, Italy. The Dolomites, a great place to be at any time of the year. The race comprises a big fast loop with heaps of ups and downs and a very generous prize-giving. There’s also a bike hill-climb the day before, so bring your bike and blow your chances for the half-marathon.

ULLSWATER TRAIL, 2007.

45. Ullswater Trail, Glenridding, England. A great way to arrive at a race, by steam-boat. My 2007 course record remains untouched, thanks largely to the weather. Race Director Graham Patten is an evil trail-running genius. He organised the first proper fell race I ever did, The Beacon Batch, in 1996. And he’s organising the next race I will do, the Ultimate Trails 100km, in less than two weeks time.

46. Mount Washington, New Hampshire, USA. I have a long, vicious memory. There are races I wish I could forget. John Stifler, the race direcor, claims there’s only one hill. I disagree. There are some truly wonderful trails up this mountain, but this isn’t one of them. It’s a road race and it climbs 4700 feet in 7 miles. Another great American once claimed that there are clubs you can’t belong to, neighbourhoods you can’t live in, schools you can’t get in to, but the roads are always open. Wrong again. The Mount Washington Auto Road is only open to pedestrians one day per year. That said, it’s still a great race. I saw my favourite ever banner at the finish of this race: “Help Save The Environment: Get Drunk & Walk To Work”.

47. Kitzbuelerhorn Berglauf, Kitzbuhuel, Austria. Identical to Mount Washington in almost every respect, only it’s in Austria and goes up the road to the Kitzbuelerhorn. Then again, any race that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.

48. Cressier-Chaumont, Neuchatel, Switzerland. A gentle late-spring race to wash away the horrors of January and February. And the perfect early-season outing for those who aren’t quite ready for steep climbs, technical trails, and high altitudes. It’s an uncelebrated classic, it’s been going 40 years, and past winners include Jeff Norman, Les Presland, Craig Roberts, and me.

49. Skaala Opp, Nordfjord, Norway. Another agonising, unrelenting uphill grind. As if this list needed another. Skaala would figure higher up in the rankings were it not for the huge rucksack you have to carry all the way to the top; at least it seemed huge to someone as slight as myself. But it’s a fact that skinny guys fight until they’re burger, and I scraped 3^rd in 2005. And what’s more, my suffering dissolved in an instant when the race mascot, Christian Prestgaard, produced a bottle of vintage Bollinger from his rucksack at the finish line. Genius. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I’d filled mine with warm clothing and nutritious snacks.

50. Swiss Alpine Marathon, Davos, Switzerland. Mick Jagger famously claimed that he’d rather be dead than singing ‘Satisfaction’ at the age of 45. When I was young, I was the same, I couldn’t imagine myself doing this kind of race  in later life. The SAM was my first 50 miler. The first half of this race is a disappointment, not a mountain in sight, but the second half really makes up for it. I know it’s a cliché, but I’ve finally learnt that racing these distances is not about beating other runners, it’s a competition against that little voice in my head that wants me to bail. I reached halfway in two and a half hours still in sight of the leaders, and then at 45km I started to feel a bit lightheaded; then there came a weariness beyond fatigue and the dark thumb of fate squashed me into the dust. Somehow I recovered and can’t wait to do it all over again.

HORSES.

  51. Kaiser Marathon, Soll, Austria. It’s motivation that gets me going at the start of the season, and habit that keeps me going at the end. This race takes place in October, at which point my good performances are usually a distant memory. The last time I ran here they stopped the race HALF-WAY THROUGH due to a couple of inches of snow. Without the bad races though, it’s impossible to appreciate the good ones. I’ve always thought it’s bad luck that makes you a good runner; if my luck had ALWAYS been good I’d have never have amounted to anything.

     52. Man vs Horse, Llandywyrtdydrfttvvwyrdd Wells, Wales. I also have something of a love-hate relationship with this race. Won twice, heckled off the podium once. A scenic, tough, and unrelenting course, spoilt only by the prescence of so many sadistic, loutish twats on horses. The true story of this race I’ll only tell to a complete stranger, someplace private in the padded-cell of midnight.

Backcountry Runner is very excited to present the New Zealand Premier of “In the High Country”.

“In the High Country will be a new kind of mountain/ running film featuring Anton Krupicka. Filmed and Produced by Joel Wolpert with the support of Ultimate Direction, this won’t be the usual running film – no “loneliness of the long distance runner” – “High Country” will take you where you’ve never been before.” – Buzz Burrell, Ultimate Direction.

In addition to screening “In the High Country”, Ultimate Direction supported runner Vajin Armstrong, who will present a talk/slide show on his recent trip to Europe, where he raced at the highest level, with podium’s in several races.

You can buy your tickets for the NZ premier of “In the High Country” on-line from the Backcountry Runner Trail Shop HERE. There will also be door sales on the night, but the venue is limited to 50.

Vajin Armstrong

The New Zealand Premier will be at Elevate, in Christchurch, on Tuesday October 1st.

• Tuesday 1st October
• $10 entry
• Elevate Bar, 2 Colombo St, Cashmere, Christchurch
• 630pm- doors open
• 7pm- start
• Ultimate Direction products on display to try on, spot prizes from Ultimate Direction and VFuel
• Limited to 50 people. Door sales if available.
• If buying your ticket from the BCR Trail Shop- please print out your receipt and bring along - this is your ticket, so make sure you have it! 

Buy In the High Country tickets now

344m Puketapu Peak, viewed from Palmerston.

Puketapu’s summit is made more prominent by the clearly visible cairn in memory of local politician and Minister of Lands Sir John McKenzie. He campaigned for the breaking up of the largest properties to give new farmers a start and was so popular that soon after his funeral a cairn in his honour was erected right on top of Puketapu. It collapsed within a few years, blown apart by fierce winds. The current much sturdier cairn was built in 1929 and the stonemason working on it said; “The wind was so strong when I parked my bike it almost stood up on its own”. Warning runners. The winds still blow.

In 1939 Puketapu was climbed for practical wartime purposes. Local policeman Bert Kelly had to monitor the coastline for hostile activity and the view from the top of Puketapu was perfect. It’s rumoured that the round trip took Constable Kelly close on 20 minutes which compares very well with recent race times and suggests that few crims would have evaded the law back then. Now, over 70 years later, “running Puki” is still very much the standard local fitness test.

Russell Hurring at the 1989 Kelly’s Canter, on the “more direct & much steeper route of the earlier years”

At only 4km Kellys Canter may seem a lightweight to even be called a mountain race. Don’t be fooled, it’s a tougher test than it seems, even with recent safety changes. The route originally went straight up the hill requiring hands and knees scrambling for even the strongest near the summit, and usually an uncontrollable five point slide back down. Large stones were often dislodged on that steepest part of the hill and after many close calls the course was modified to eliminate the risk. It’s rumoured that in the early years legendary local runner and doctor Chip Dunkley, himself a veteran of more than 20 Kellys Canters, treated multiple winner Tony Snell for grass burns on his tender rear parts, the mark of truly committed descending. We can be thankful for modern lugged trail shoes.

The climb now takes a more gradual sidling route which is all runnable, just, and a different descent route also sidles through the rocky sections so that loosened rocks roll harmlessly away. But it will take a heroic run to better Dan O’Connell’s record time of 17 minutes 45seconds set on the direct route. Recent winners Dougal Thorburn (2011), and Richard Olsen (2012) have run times close to 20 minutes. The women’s race has been dominated for the last two years by NZ 1500m track representative Rebekha Greene in around 24 minutes. Evergreen mountain man Andrew Town is a great supporter of Kellys Canter, a multiple winner in his prime, he is still the vet to beat with his fearless, if not so graceful, descending.

Russell, with granddaughter Marley and wife Trees. Marley at age 3 cranked out her first Kelly’s Canter!

One truly good thing about Kelly’s Canter is that although the winners take only 20 minutes the less tormented (walkers) can generally complete the course in an hour. That is just enough time for the speedsters to regain their breath and buy the ice cream from Palmerston’s famous Licker Parlour less than 100 metres downtown from the finish line. It’s the perfect Sunday afternoon family outing and the ideal way to introduce the kids to mountain running. Just be warned. If you graciously help your kids up the climb they will cream you on the descent with their lower centre of gravity and absence of fear – when ice cream is at stake.

The second truly good thing about Kelly’s Canter is that with the help of generous local sponsorship organisers, the Palmerston Lions Club, offer the best ratio of prize money to entry fee of any race in the country, $300 for the first man and the first woman with $5 to enter, $2 for kids. How can you miss? No online bedlam, no wait lists, all welcome. Just bring your entry money to the caravan outside the Palmerston railway station from 1:00pm onwards for a 2:00pm start. Usually held on the third Sunday in October, this year the 20^th. See you there.