74km was the distance we had to run today.  As I somehow have managed to get into the top 20 I started an hour after the main bunch.  This meant an extra hour in the heat of the day and I knew managing water was going to be the key to not having to roll up into a ball and cry like a baby somewhere in on the trail.
 
The first stage was back through the salt flats, we started off running on a pure white bed of salt, occasionally interrupted by crystal clear pools of salt water, we needed to jump over.  The purity turned to ankle rolling, blister teasing, toe mashing crusty mud and salt mound and spikes.  14km to soften us up and let us know that just because it was 74k didn't mean they'd be making it easy.
 
As we were running we passed a lot of the competitors from the early departure group, all offered encouragement and support, this has been a real feature of the race, the spirit of participation and the generous nature of the people.  This has seriously made the event for me, to hear the stories of the feats of competitors and their lives, including raising funds for charities, attempting world firsts, challenging physical limits from diseases, all interesting, all committed.
 
The highlight of the next two stages was the introduction of a 45 degree sand dune that we needed to scale to get to the checkpoint and fresh water supplies, in a weird way I loved it because it changed the muscles I used from my 'Westmere shuffle' I've been using for hours.  Over the top of the dune we entered a wide canyon of mud scales dried and sitting like terracotta plates in perfect formation, the wind was strong (grab a hair dryer and spent 5 minutes letting it blow in your face and eyes), water supplies were depleted, mental state was very unrelaxed, if water didn't come shortly I was toast.  One of the things that you are constantly aware of is that your mouth and throat are totally parched, constantly you find yourself struggling to swallow, blinking to stop your contact lens sticking to your eyeballs, all your moisture is sucked out of your body, you drink your precious water and immediately think about when your next sip is.  It is relentless, the only way to manage it is to introduce very short small time windows, run 2 minutes, drink, eat 10 minutes, if you don't the shear force of the thought of running 74k in this environment would send you over the edge, more than one person was crying without tears, as they didn't have the water to spare.
 
I ran the last half of the course with the South African woman Erica, she had gastric problems, I had quad problems, we helped each other work through the heat of the day, thinking only of getting to the cooler part and being able to get some distance covered.
 
We were treated to a beautiful canyon of high mud formations and bridges, hidden from the sun and trotting through the soft sand.  We got into camp after 11 hours and 5 minutes, still in the light of the day.  I think I came 14th overall that day, 12th in my group and currently sit at 10th for the race.
 
I wanted to say again how fab the comments are to come and read from friends and family, I really love to hear from you guys and it lifts my spirits.
 
Today we have 10k to run to the finish and then beer and pizza.  I'm looking forward to coming home, I know that Pete is looking forward to seeing you mum and the relative calm of the next travel phase.
 
Luc, you are a star, I'm very proud of you and your player of the day, fantastic effort!!!  Sash, Phoebs and of course my darlin Rach, looking forward to seeing you guys very shortly.  Breedie and the Twenty team, looking forward to seeing you all, to friends and colleagues, please chill the beer and wine, I'm going to be thrusty.

I enjoyed today, unlike yesterday when I was burnt toast.  Today I was lightly salted and baked but in a manageable way.  Yesterday I eeked out a 13th place but gave more than you can imagine having been sucked up and tossed out of the appropriately named 'Valley of Death'.  Mentally I felt nervous going into what is described as the 'hardest' stage of the race, this being 14kms across a plateau of foot torture.  The scene of this destruction is nothing short of other worldly.  If you can imagine a corral bed 14m long where every step you take you don't know if your ankles are going to be shredded or foot cut.  You crunch through layers of white salt and if you're unlucky crack the surface and sink into a salt marsh.
 
As beautiful as the plateau is, it mentally zaps you.  We were warmed up with rock over sand for 10k and then the most smooth and soft sand dunes, the final one leading down to a valley or canyon rich in lush trees, a tunnel of undergrowth and a stream to wad through. 
 
This was the most enjoyable stage of the race.
 
I was lucky to team up with a South African girl, who is coming second, and can only be described as the mentally toughest person out there today, she dragged me along behind her, never letting me stop running, even through the salt flats.  This suppport got me over the line in 10th place.
 
I passed Pete at check point 2 just before the salt flats, he has been manning the checkpoints and has universally being described as an endurance machine as he supports competitors for up to 16 hours (on his feet and the drums), II've tried to get him to take a rest but he's not having a bar of it.  Mum I suspect he'll be asleep for days on the cruise.
 
We are currently sitting here next to the largest salt lake in Chile and soaking up the mountain views as the afternoon winds take the heat out of the sun.
 
Foot status: Four nails coming off, 5 blisters.
 
Tomorrow is the long day, 76km with the first stage of 15km described as extremely difficult, but we'll be back into.
 
I've just read your comments and love them, tonight I'm going to dream of sipping pinot gris.  Love to all....

Temps hit 40 today and we suffered!  RTP gave us a series of salt crusted uneven and dry mud terrain that consistently gave way under you foot sending you into a bog underneath, apparently this 3km was a taster for the 14km tomorrow.  Our feet rolled around in our shoes, our ankles strained to breaking point and our mental agility tested as you combined a prayer with visual gymnastics trying to assess the next step to take.  From this we relaxed into some dusty road shuffle, thinking this is too easy.  We then headed into the sand dunes and spent hours climbing and descending dunes spiked with gaggered rock.  By this time I was thinking I'm going to puke, more water, more electrolytes, more food, more anything to keep me moving.  Not sure if this strategy was the best, but somehow I keep going.  Mentally I was fried, having to deal with pounds of sand in my shoes, pushing my feet to the roof of my shoes and creating blisters under my nails.  Last night I had one lost nail, suspect there will be 4 more.
 
The final slap in the face was a 30 metre sand dune climb in soft soft sand.  I immediately lifted seeing Pete on the finish line, real treat!
 
As hard as I'm describing this race, it is awesome.
 
Thanks a lot to everyone who has sent in comments, they really lift me.  Can't wait to see everyone in a week or so, thanks to everyone for getting me here, it's only day 3 and I can taste the beer already.
 
As I sit here, Pete is sitting behind a drum, banging away to welcome competitors into camp, staff and competitors have universally said Pete is brilliant at supporting everyone.  He is however constantly being reminded to put on sunscreen and stay out of the sun, obviously he is ignoring this.  Mum, Dad and I are looking forward to seeing you shortly.  Rach, Luc, Sash and Phobes, can't wait for hugs.....
 
Hame

What a day, to describe it as hard is like describing rubbing deep heat ointment on your nuts as 'comforting'.
 
The first 5km of the race involved dropping into a tight canyon with a cool and refreshing stream to cross, 20 times.  Knee deep and rocky it was the most fun we had all day. 
 
Obviously this race is not designed to be 'nice', so we duly carried wet shoes and feet up the side of a ridge, where we entered a disused tunnel and as the fine dust floated off the floor we could just see the end of the tunnel without seeing the monster rocks there to be kicked, I was fortunate to be behind a couple of people and heard the cries of ,jeeeesuuus that was a big rock.
 
After traversing the ridge we ran down a 200 metre sand dune, I was really looking forward to surfing this but I was in dire straits with no water and stressing about the sand landscape we were heading into, fortunately by this time the temp was only 30 degrees.
 
The next 5km was in canyons and slightly down hill which was a blessing.  This followed by 15km of sand and dirt track which headed into a salt plane.  I have started to employ a run for 2 minutes, walk for 2 minutes which is the only way you can major the thought of all that terrain and heat. 
 
This stage took me 6 hours 35 minutes and I came in 14th. I'll try and maintain around this area.  Physically the body is holding up ok, I've got sore quads, a toenail raised off it's nail bed that the doctor kinding thrust a 3 inch needle into and sucked the fluid out.
 
All in all a good day.

Sitting in the cybertent in the desert and listening to music amongst the heat and tired bodies.
 
We started the race day on a serious note today, with a minutes silence in respect for the people who lost their lives in the earthquake.
 
Not withstanding everyone shaking in the cold it was totally the most appropriate way to recognize what Chile has been through.
 
Slept averagely due to the altitude, but was keen to get up and see the stunning milky way.
 
From the start of the race the pace was quick, the air cool and the terrain rocky but everyone got away well.  I started with a bunch of runners who all wanted to make the most of the cool conditions and so the pace was quick.
 
The views from the top of the plateau was stunning with vistas of the volcanos.  I managed to stick with these guys and ended up somehow heading up the leaderboard.  My strategy for the day was to run 10 minutes and walk 2, this didn't happen, I ran solidly for 3 hours before heading up a 3km canyon which by 12 was a furnace, and getting hotter.  I didn't take my first electrolyte until 3 hours, so started to feel the early stages of cramp.  I kept saying to myself conserve, but it was hard!
 
I got into the camp after a brutual final 3.5 kms.  Past Pete manning the check point, and stopped to have a few pictures taken.  I loved the official photographer wanting to recognise 'family' in the Atacama.
 
Got into camp in 4 hours 12 minutes in 5th place, legs shaking and feeling the heat, tomorrow I'm going to take it easy and actually do as I planned.  Currently feeling good having had food, electrolytes and soup.  I suspect the legs will give me some gip tomorrow for my sins today.
 
Signing off as the drums continue to beat for people coming in and Santana peels layers off his guitar.
 
Lucie the desert is hot, dry, brown, mountainous, rocky, but has stunning shades of light that play of the ridges and give you a sense of being on mars.
 
Sashie, Phebes and Rach love you both to the moon and back,  Please keep the messages coming, as dry as the desert is I had tears in my eyes.
 
Hame

We have arrived at the most special campsite, surrounded by beautiful peaks of dry dirt with the sun reflecting off them.  WeT are at 3200 metres and I haven't yet felt the lack of air.
 
Tomorrows first stage is 35 km and starts with a fast downhill before heading up a nasty goat track, described in the briefing as difficult.
 
I'm sitting next to Pete and he is writing emails. 
 
The drive over was an hour of stunning valleys and vistas of the surrounding volcanos.
 
Looking forward to cracking into the race, I'm planning on a 10 minute run 2 minute walk approach to ensure I consume enough water in this brutal heat and extreme dry.  You can feel the moisture leaving your skin and parching your throat.
 
Will update again tomorrow.
Big Love to Rach, Lucas, Sasha, and Phoebe

San Pedro is the staging town for the Atacama Crossing, a beautiful and authentic mix of mud buildings, friendly dogs and intense heat.

I knew the heat would be a factor but the altitude intensifies the heat and you burn baby burn.

Pete and I have got into the groove of the town and been out mountain biking, dining and swimming in the pools of the hotels we drop into.

The altitude has caused me a few headaches and some dizziness, but I now feel fine and will go for a run this arvo with my pack which I´ve just finished packing.  It´ll be in the middle range of weight I suspect.  When mountain biking you found your lungs screaming blue murder on any inclines and I was massively impressed with my Dad Pete, who is in his 70s getting back onto a bike for the first time in 35 years at high altitude and on rough terrain, amazing!

The race format has changed to allow for the delay in racing, so instead of having a full days rest before the final leg, we finish the 80km run and then pile into the final 16 odd k into San Pedro and the finish.

Have to say I´m now looking forward to getting on with the race, over the last 3 days we´ve had an earthquake, tornado (mini) and travelled through some of the most amazing landscapes, but now its time to get on with it.

Just a quick note to say a big congrats to my business partner Breedie for knocking off his NZ ironman in very fine form.

More over the next few days about the race.

This from what I can gather from tweets around the Public works ministry. From all the reports I have read it sounds like Chile has a very good emergency planning & execution capability. If they weren't so on to it, it would have been a lot worse.

Hi, have been tracking this over the last 5 hours since the earthquake. Firstly I hope all the RTP competitors and staff are all ok, not to mention the people of Chile. The news I have been finding is that the airport is closed for at least 72 hours from the point of the earthquake. There are pictures of windows broken and a passage gateway bridge having fallen down. I'm hoping the 72 hours is for clean up work. All current flights are being cancelled or diverted. This blog is of course my news searches, likely to be incomplete . RTP will I'm sure provide more informed and detailed info as outlined in their statement. I'd certainly like to contribute to a fund for Chile.....

I decided to give myself 3 full weeks of taper, which has meant no more long pack runs, just a few (3 each week) of short tempo runs. This is hopefully allowing me to repair my little injuries I've been running and putting up with, Metatarsalia being the main one. It is getting better but to be honest, it will just float in a sea of pain over that 7 days, so it won't be as noticeable, so I'm not worrying to much. I'm not sure about you guys but these last 4 weeks have gone very slowly when thinking about getting to Atacama and very fast when thinking about organising everything else in my life. I have spent a few days over the last few weeks on rarified air in a lazy boy chair (mask on face) watching Atacama crossing videos on my iphone. Short of being there this is the closest I've gotten to the event. The only other thing I could have done is not shave or shower for a week to get the aroma 'authentic' but somehow that seemed like overdoing things a little, and other people have to use the room immediately after me, an elderly lady who had had a collapsed lung recently. Didn't seem fair to add to her breathing problems. I did read somewhere (facebook I think) that Ryan is in Bolivia (3500m) training, I feel like my approach seems somewhat 'Lazy' compared, then again I'm looking to beat tale end charlie not win. Flying into Santiago on the 2nd, see you there...

I hope the Xmas break (if you are having one) is good and Santa brings you speed, strenght and new kit in good measure.

I've altered my training schedule for December to now include a new nutritional mix, including chilled wine and mid afternoon naps.

Just checked the list of competitors running Atacama 2010, and there are two former tent mates I was hoping to race with again, Shane and Annabell.  Things just get better, Happy As....

I travelled down to Tongariro National Park last Saturday for a Sunday run through a lauded mountain biking trail, the 42nd Traverse.

 

Unfortunately the two guys I planned to run with pulled the pin a week or so earlier due to unforeseen stuff, so I went solo.

I stayed at one of the local hotels which seemed to attract a bevy of young back packers from Europe. 

 

I felt conspicuous, uncool and a little over packed when I bought in my crate of running crap, including my perpetuum, whey protein, cytomax, pack, 3 pairs of shoes, fifteen pairs of shorts and shirts, heart rate monitor, search and rescue first aid bag, gels, bars, lubes, sleeping bag, bivvy bag, emergency bag, first choice expedition freeze dri (to test), and laptop to check the weather.

 

A storm had been through the day before and I was a little nervous to say the least with 8 river crossings and the temperature hovering around 0 degrees.

 

So I get to my room after having to explain to the receptionist why the purity of running had become so complex and involved, and that none of my powders were going to be snorted on the coffee table.

 

I decided early on to head to the hot springs to prepare my legs and treat myself to the wonders of Mrs Mac’s mince pies, both of which caused tremors of excitement as I stepped into a wind that cut through me like a warm knife through butter.

 

I go to bed at the respectable time of 8.30 (crikey) to the riffs of stereophonics and the eclectic sound of karaoke singing in 3 languages from next door.  I’ve forgotten my earplugs and fear the night could be long and unsettled.

 

I’m up and eating spag bolle at 5.30 (loved it), got dressed, then redressed, finally changed into what I would wear and proceeded to lube, mix my endurance potions and then lock and load my heart rate and foot pod thingys, hoping that they would tell me at kilometre 70 that I was still alive and not lying in a heap on the side of the track for the pig hunting dogs to play with.

 

Stepping outside I see a beautiful purple haze just above the snowy peak of Mt Tongariro and the curve of the blue sky, perfect conditions.

 

So the idea for the day was to run the trail one way and then back again, you start at the top then basically run down hill.  I wasn’t sure how the return uphill would feel but thought if it all turned to custard I could stop at the turning 35km mark and head out of the trail to a local café before instead of heading back into the heart land and committing to the back 35.

 

I was nervous when I got to the start of the trail and it read minus 3 on my cars temp gauge, the sign at the beginning read with foreboding, don’t enter unless you are very very sure you can get back out, as there are no exits between here and the other end of the track.  It also asked that hunters watch for skinny white guys in lycra (I added this in my mind) and not shoot them (or allow there pig dogs to tear them apart, which has happened recently to a women out jogging). So I felt like I was safe.

 

So I’m off, and the first half hour I play around with my pack set up (the pack I’ll be bringing to AC10) and don’t get into a rhythm until I hit an amazing section of single track that leads you through a funnel of native firms, at this point I’m sub consciously checking everything, and it’s all working, I’m in the zone and feel a million bucks, which I know we all feel after 10km and regret later.  So I’m particularly pleased about my new running shoes I’ve decided to take on their second run (the first was a 5 hour trail run and they worked a treat), as importantly they have a beautiful cushioned ride, so I feel like I’m running on air.

 

About 22km I get to the first of my river crossings, the levels are up with snow run off and the water is murky from sediment movement, I know its going to be cold as I take my first step into the flow, in two steps I’m up to mid quads, I feel the wave of pain before it hits my crutch as it moves up my legs and know its going to hurt, real bad, I start to move faster, I can’t see what my feet are doing and know the chances of crashing into the water are now 80%, I step on a biiiiiggg slippery rock and dance on the top trying to get some traction, I get my balance, legs spread, arms flaying like windmills, the water is filling my tummy button, waves of pain are coursing through my body, I scream one of those child hood screams when you jam your finger in a closing door, a pure unrestrained bellow.

 

I move carefully off the submerged rock fighting my survival flight reflex thinking about how bad my cold pizza will taste if I go down body, bag and all, and it gets soggy.  Out the other side and it takes a good 50 metres of hill climb before the pain subsides, I tell myself ‘only 7 more times do I have to go to that bad place’.

 

I’m lucky in that the temp rises to 12 degrees, the sun is directly on me and there is no wind in the valley, I look up and see thousands of years of untouched native forest, see wood pigeons and hawks fly over head and realise how lucky I am, I enjoy the moment as I know I won’t give a sh*t when I’m back in the same spot in another 5 hours on the return journey and I’ll be watching each stone, rock, undulation and working out how much energy I have to give up to lift my 2 ton foot over.

 

4 hours in and the end of the track appears, I’ve been looking forward to this point, as I’m starting to feel slightly tired and know that pretty much that first 35k was down hill and I’m going to be talking sweet nothings to my quads for another 4 hours egging them on, and promising all sorts of things to them that I will have no intention of delivering on, but it’s a mental thing and I’m allowed these ramblings to my body parts as I’m running alone.

 

Or at least I thought I was.  I had not seen a single mountain biker on the trail and then hear the gunning of a 4x4 in low ratio creeping along the trail, and the snarling and barking of what I know would not be cute Corgies.  Around the corner comes a Toyota hilux, circas 1975, with two guys who had guns nestled in their armpits in the cab, and four massive pig dogs balancing on the bonnet, and another 4 in the back. 

I’m hoping these lads have some control over these dogs because there is not a lot of love coming my way, more like teeth bared, legs sprung, eyes wide and eerily focused. I pull off to the side of the trail, the 4x4 stops next to me, the window is open and the dogs are 10 inches away from my head, the lads are issuing some instructions which I don’t understand and but they can see I’m one of them, someone who gets the wilderness, and I’m hoping they can’t see my skinny legs in lycra as this could give away that I’m soft city folk. 

They ask if I’ve seen a dog that’s missing, they point to one of the dogs ready to rip my head off and say he looks like him, I’m saying sorry no, but inside I’m saying are you kidding me, thanks to the big fella up stairs for not making that crossing of paths part of my day. 

They cruise on, I make a mental note to get my swiss army credit card knife out in preparation, as I’m sure it’s 1.5 inch blade will be effective against a dog who’s very existence is to trap, circle and then incapacitate living things.

 

55km in and I make my biggest mistake of the day.  I’m into the last of the river crossings and the water temp in the rivers have risen to the point that I’m standing in them cooling my legs off and drinking the freshest water in the world, but forget to refill my bladder.  I know I’m low but think there were other sources further on. 

5k on and I’m out of my Cytomax and water.  10k further and I’m feeling a little light headed.  I know this is a problem as I have no support network and the thought of drinking my pee is not in anyway endearing. 

So I’m thinking about all those survival programs I’ve been watching on telly and working through my options, lick the leaves, that’s it, no drink from little puddles of water on the ground.  So here I am on my hands and knees gently scooping water into my palm as not to disturb the mud on the bottom, it’s working, so I run to the next puddle and continue this process for the final 5km to the car. 

It’s ungracious but did the job. Back at the hotel the receptionist looks surprised I survived and asks when I’ll be back.  In 3 weeks for another epic adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Currently lying on my couch at our holiday home at Taupo, feeling that post run warmth and mellowness that I get after running through native forest, the pounding of terrential rain and the spring of the lambs bouncing from one patch of grass to the next.

I spent a soul cleansing two and a half hours running trails beside the mighty Waikato river with its jumping salmon and scary waterfalls.

The only downside of the run was the trial of a new pair of merino wool tights I'm testing for a company, they are fantastic except for the floored design of a seam down the middle of the crutch, you don't need to be a genius to know the damage a wet seam can do to your bits and pieces.   Suffice to say things are not right down there anymore and I'm walking like a cowboy and commando to speed up the recovery process.  My kids are running around laughing saying 'dad's lost his nob'.

From the trail I ran to the hot springs and spent an hour soothing my muscles while being drissled with cool rain, wrestling my kids and planning the mystery wine tasting for the evening.

Honestly I think I love the training more than the actual event.



 

Just back from a ridiculously massive culinary feast over looking beautiful islands off Auckland.

Awesome veal, with Central Otago Pinot, not a running shoe in sight and I loved every moment.

Took clients out for a 6 hour lunch, talked about stuff I have no idea about, swinging clubs, erotica festivals and hunting days, honestly I'm so lightweight and straight it's embarrassing.

I could feel the calories molding into my body (read waist line tire).  Sometimes having days like this makes the next weeks training seem so much more real, out on the trails, back to the real world.

Variety keeps the training fresh.

Hope the training is going well.

A few friends have asked me why I am participating in two Racingtheplanet events so close together. Isn't that just plain stupid?  On reflection yes it is...on a large scale.

But ....with the Western Australian event in one of the most wild, untouched, and varied parts of the world and being so close it was just plain hard to say no.  The event looks like it is more adventure race than pure ultra which also cranks up the desirability factor a few notches.

My objective for these events is purely to finish without killing myself.

In researching the Atacama event, I was blown away by the landscape and very cool on trail video footage by competitors, especially through the canyons and salt coral beds (not flats).

Mary and team do a brilliant job of bringing the events to life on the website. 

I've also had a chance to email a few veterans of the event, all tended to say the same things:

1. The altitude is a killer, especially day one;
2. Your feet are in the hands of the gods - don't expect them to look the same at the end;
3. Lie on your back at least once at night and soak up the Milky way, you'll never see sky like that again.

Good luck with your training

 

Running 500km through the Atacama Crossing and Western Australia next March and April is a chance to reacquaint myself with old friends, new adventures and raise much needed funds for my charity the Upside Downs Trust.

I have an old school friend who has a daughter with the condition and she enriches their lives massively.  They have thrown their hearts and souls into supporting her to be as prepared for school as possible, all of which greatly increases her chances of success and self confidence.  Unfortunately the NZ Government only contributes a very small amount to programs supporting these kids get ready for the big stage of school.  The Trust was set up to help all Kiwi kids with Downs to take a step in the right direction.

Over the next 5 months or so I'll be blogging about my preparation, training adventures and efforts to raise funds.

If you would like to donate please do so at www.fundraiseonline.co.nz/HamishTravers/

I'm happy to field your questions as they come up.