A couple of years ago I made an attempt to define what ‘doing well’ in an event meant to me. I’d long ago decided my goal was to be able to ‘do well’ across distances and disciplines in pretty much any challenge I took on, so eventually the term begged to be clarified. What I came up with (you can read the original blog HERE) was essentially that to be able to complete a task within 150% of the time it took a world champion to complete the same task, was, at least in ways that made me pretty content with it all, doing well.
Assuming I met this goal, I’d be a sub 3:05 marathoner, be able to do a 40 km time trial on the bike in 1:11, and swim 50 meters in around 31 seconds. [Click HERE for other “Off by 50” times]
Lately though, I haven’t been racing much, and so wondered if my fitness still measured up. Yesterday I had a chance to find out.
You see, there are more ‘real world’ applications against which this metric can be applied, and one of them happens to be my ‘real world’ job–stoat trapping. My boss, Adrian Braaksma, is arguably the world champion of stoat trappers, particularly on one section of track leading deep into the wilderness along the infamous Dusky Track. Now Adrian has been doing this approximately 10 km ‘run’ for years–stopping every 200 meters along the way to open a wooden box with a wrench, rebait the trap with an egg and some rabbit meat, and then close the box before continuing to the next trap. 43 traps. A trail that defies description.
Last year when he was training for a slew of events including GodZone and Challenge Wanaka–and after decades of honing his abilities to travel through the bush at superhuman speeds–Adrain set his own personal best, completing the ‘run’ in 2 hours and 12 minutes. Now it may not sound that fast, but only because you haven’t seen the trail. Even the likes of Uli Steck himself wouldn’t stand a chance of beating this time without some dedicated, on-site training.
So I had my goal. 3 hours and 18 minutes. To increase incentive, I caught a late boat across Lake Manapouri (the track is only accessible by boat) with a return scheduled so that I had five and a half total hours to get back to the boat. I reckoned I could run the way out (no traps to bait) in 2 hours, based on previous attempts, so I had my window. Unfortunately, the vehicle that should have been waiting for me (the track started 5 km from the boat terminal) wasn’t, so I had to bike up the hill to the start of my mission. Allowing for the bike back down and the trigger happy boat Captain, this whittled my time for the out-n-back along the track to 5 hours. I gave myself a 3 hour turn around time and set off, intending to smash the record.
The track was drier than I’d ever seen. Normally there is a 100 meter section of knee deep water right off the bat. Nothing but mud. Things looked good…for a while. Then I hit the second walk-wire which had been demolished by a tree. 4 or 5 more massive tree-falls broke up my pace by requiring me to crawl and climb my way around the obstacles. As the path ascended along the river valley, the ambient temperature dropped and the box lids became frozen shut, requiring more time to open them. Ice and frost on the bush soaked my clothes and made me cold. The massive clearing of ferns that always makes me lose my bearings struck again and cost another 5 minutes before I found the track again. I was soooo close. I ended my journey, on schedule, at trap 3, meaning I had about half a kilometer left to go to the ‘finish line’ of Spey Hut. 100 meters from where I turned around the track hit a swampy clearing where a boardwalk extended the remaining distance. I was perhaps 5 minutes from the end.
In retrospect, I could have made it. The boat didn’t end up leaving early after all. I managed the run back in just under 2 hours, even getting lost again in those damned ferns. I was a bit gutted to miss those last few traps, but reckon I would easily have managed to go under 3:18–besides, there’s always next time…late July/early August. It’s good to have goals…