Race Report: Tarawera Ultra Trail by Clifford Jones
tarawera ultra trail by utmb - 17 february 2024 - rotorua, new zealand
contributed by clifford jones, aura member (palm cove, far north queensland)
My name is Clifford Jones, a 57 year old runner, living in beautiful Palm Cove in FNQ. I’ve been running since 2018 and have taken on ever bigger challenges. Prior to this event, my longest run was 80km at Noosa in 2022. I attempted the Surf Coast Century in September 2023 but that was my biggest DNF. I have come to identify as a trail runner and whilst I am ride and am learning to swim (70.3 anyone?), trails is where my heart is at.
Mid last year, the coaching squad I train with settled on a destination race. This was to be the Tarawera Ultra Trail by UTMB, the 102km distance. This was intended to be my second 100km race, but Surf Coast went all shades of wrong, so after contemplating dropping down a distance, I worked with a sports doctor to understand what went wrong earlier and ended up discovering a few other issues at the same time (the story of my life last year. Hint: don’t get old and if you do, avoid doctors and opticians. They find all sorts of stuff wrong).
Training
I train with Josh Duff at Smurf Endurance Sports and we settled on a plan to make Tarawera a success.
First issue was nutrition. I have a problem with liquid nutrition and I believe that was a part of the Surf Coast problem. So we settled on plain water and a mix of NaaK wafers, bars and whatever was at the aid stations. Lots of training with these gae me confidence this could be the answer. In training, I knew I needed to do long back to backs and become happy with running fatigued. My best races have always been off of the back of this type of training.
Training was going well, nutrition seemed sorted and then a FNQ heatwave hit. This came in the middle of a push block and on a squad run, I become desolate and quite upset at how things were going. I was running with a quick group and was unable to maintain their pace. I am accustomed to being a slower runner, but I was last, by a long way. If I’d had toys, they’d have been out of the pram well and truly. Just as I was about to breakdown, Josh came down the trail and we had a chat. It was the sort of discussion you need once in a while. There was nothing revelatory and no lightbulb moment, but he did say, ‘just dig it out, like the last 10km of an ultra’. So I did, I changed my mindset and approach. I took that with me for the rest of the training block. Alone, bored, doing the session, but just pretending it was the last bit, the final push.
One last long run (6hrs up and down Black Mountain Road…) and I was extremely ready. Going into taper, I actually felt the best I’d ever felt. It sounds like a cliche, but almost like a coiled spring ready to go!
The Big Day
The event week was amazing. Rotorua is located in a geo thermal area, with sulphur filling the air. The scenery is beautiful and the people more so. We attended the Race Directors BBQ and had a walk around a wildlife area, following the next morning with a welcome from the local indigenous people. The atmosphere was electric (if not a bit thick with sulphur!).
Race morning came and the 102 (now 104km) runners assembled at the meeting point. We were brought forward to have the tranditional welcome before the horn sounded to release us. 600 people running around a geothermal hotspot, through clouds of steam, in the early morning light. I challenge anyone to conjure up a more dramatic start to an epic running adventure.
The race had started, I felt good and I was controlling myself and my pace. First aid station was dispatched, some water, eat some of my food. The second station was the first time the queue for the loo was less than for the water. Due to 50km runners (1600 of them) and 100 runners sharing some parts of the course and due to the different start times, it meant that Lake Rotokakahi become congested, made more complex by a loop (that some runners missed due to the congestion). It is what it is, but 15mins spent waiting for water was a longer break than many expected.
Loop done and 29km completed, off to Millar 1. This was my favourite aid station. We’d all revisit it as it was on the way back from Okataina, but suffice to say the chill mood in the late evening was replaced by some full EDM at 1am!
Millar to Okataina was a vicious climb, followed by a loop. It was here that my plans started to go awry.
The Challenges
I had a mini vomit on one of the ascents. Just liquid and it was quick and a relief. I was still drinking but as we climbed, I noticed a twinge getting more pronounced in my right knee. Getting to the next aid station (57km) I took my time, strategised, had a long rest and worked on a plan. For the next while I was going to use cheap energy, coke, oranges, melons, sugar coated lollies. The knee was starting to really play up and was painful, but I found a stick to use as a crutch (mental as much as anything) and then walked/hiked back to Millar. Some more cheap energy, but now 80km down, there was no way I wasn’t finishing.
This was where the mental part of ultra running becomes critical. I pushed onto Lake Tikitapu, well into the early morning, to be greeted by the most amazing aid station workers. 90km in, I was going to do this. The knee by this stage wasn’t bending and I was in a constant left turn, countered by my body leaning the opposite side. It made for some interesting walking.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity we emerged at Redwood, the last aid station. Another sit down, gathering my thoughts. And off we went, now mainly road, but doing a fast hike around the lake, with security guards and aid workers letting us know that it was only 2km to go! In the early hours of the Sunday morning, we needed to follow a path around a steaming, smelly sulphurous lake, with signs warning you what will happen if you stray. Perhaps not the best time to being such important navigation!
Down The Chute
I had decided that after 50km of very hiking, I was going to run the last 100m into the chute. It was the furthest I’d run, hurt like hell, but it felt so good.
In the end, it was 108.84km and 2661m of elevation gain. It was the single most hardest thing I've ever done. It hurt like hell. My knee is still upset at me. But I can’t wait to do it again, perhaps not next year, but 2026 (and the Miler?).
There is something, a feeling of complete and utter exhaustion that few people get to experience. We ultra runners are fortunate that we can get to sample this feeling.
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