When running is a life and death experience
Is there a race in the world where you encounter friendly Abba look-a-likes more than a kilometre up the side of a mountain?
Or where you get passed by a guy running for 60 kilometres in full rural firefighter kit?
Or where you feel that you’ve somehow slipped off the trail and landed in a magnificent Grahame Sydney landscape?
The only race I can think of that ticks all those boxes, and a bunch more, is the Kepler Challenge.
Some races are a straight-out blat for the finish line. Others are an experience, an adventure – races like the Kepler.
Sure, there are others (and I love them, too), but few have been going for as long or are as steeped in their communities.
If you want to know what a meal in heaven tastes like, take a mouthful of salt and vinegar chips deep into an ultramarathon.
Kepler, based out of Te Anau, in the Fiordland National Park, has been an institution for 31 years. It’s organised by a bunch of volunteers who give proceeds back to causes like the local kindergarten.
Because it’s in a national park, the numbers are restricted so it’s hard to get into – so hard that from next year the race committee is planning to have a ballot to decide who gets in, rather than a first-in, first-served system that fills up in minutes.
This year, I managed to get in off the waiting list and got to run a race I’ve long wanted to have a crack at.
It’s customary at this point to say that it was worth the wait. But that would be a lie.
Because my overwhelming feeling is: damn, I wish I’d done this years ago!
It’s hard to put my finger on why.
There’s the incredible scenery, from the alpine views which make the never-ending