Quest begins where you find inspiration

When you reach the end of something you’ve strived for for a long time, you often don’t think back to the start. That’s certainly true of races – once you hit that finish line, you’re often just relieved you’re there. The start seems irrelevant.

But, weirdly, when I finished the longest race of my life recently, I couldn’t help but think of where it began.

But where does the journey of 100 miles really begin?

I was at the Tarawera Ultra, in Rotorua, exhausted and yet exhilarated after almost 29 hours of running. At events like that, race staff will make sure you’re OK, then lead you into a tent to sit, eat and drink, get changed into warm clothes (the body temperature plummets once you stop), and reunite you with your family.

As I sat there, zoned out for a few minutes, my mind wandered.

Technically, the start had been at 4am the previous day, when about 300 of us lined up at the stunning Te Puia geothermal field, setting off through the steam of the Po¯ hutu geyser – is there a more magical race start anywhere in the world?

But any experienced runner will tell you a race doesn’t start until deep into the distance.

For the marathon, Olympic medallist and Kiwi legend Barry Magee once told me it didn’t begin until 32 kilometres – until then you were only getting yourself prepared for the last 10km home.

In a 100-mile (165km) race, friends told me it didn’t really begin until 100km. How could that possibly be true?

And yet, that is about exactly where things got real.

The first 100km, I’d been controlled and comfortable, feeling good. But some time around when the kilometres clicked over to triple digits, I wobbled, badly.

It coincided with nightfall, and the part of the course where the trails got tricky – trail runners call it ‘‘technical’’ – plenty of tree roots, and rocks, banks to tip-toe along the top of, and fallen trees to clamber over.

I’d made a crucial mistake of leaving my headlamp in my bag, and, rather than stop and put it on, I pushed on, pig-headedly trying to defeat the dark. No-one beats the dark. I lost, most crucially, I lost my confidence.

I was slowed to a walk, and it felt like I would never get to the next aid station where my wife, Suzanne, and my crew and friends were waiting for me, to buoy me, to set me off with my pacer, Gene, and get some food into me (cheese toasted sandwich, and a cup of black tea with one sugar, thanks!)

I felt isolated and vulnerable. I questioned why I was doing this. Somehow I found inspiration in family and friends whose paths have not been easy, who have felt alone and vulnerable and sick and have not had a choice about their situation.

I had chosen to be here, I knew I could get out of it, motivated by them.

So, was that the start, I wondered – the moment I really locked in a determined state of mind that, no matter what, I was going to get to the finish?

Or was the start months earlier, when I first committed to entering? Was it when I first spoke to

Suzanne about what it would take, and what it would mean her putting up with – hundreds of hours of me out training, untold amounts of grumpiness, the weird sight of me stretching in front of the TV at night? Her support and love filled my heart and lightened my way.

Then my mind wandered back to when I first fell in love with running. Perhaps that was the start? Was it when I met my good mate, Greg Mac, who I ran my first trails with, exuberant teenagers tearing each other’s legs and lungs out blasting through the Hunua bush on warm summer Sunday afternoons?

Or was it even earlier, when I lolloped around the block with my Dad, and listened to stories of how my Aunty Sydney and Uncle Murray were running marathons – ‘‘Marathons! That’s so far!’’ I thought.

So, where does the journey of 100 miles really begin?

The same place every other journey does – that place where you find inspiration, and something lights in your heart, embarking you on an odyssey you might not even know you’re on.

Eugene Bingham and Matt

Rayment are hosts of a trail running podcast Dirt Church Radio. Learn more at dirtchurch radio.com or get in touch via email dirtchurchradio@gmail.com

The start line of the Tarawera Ultra 100-mile race is one of the most magical start lines in the world.