How did I  get here? Seriously? I went from "57 weeks - I have plenty of time to do this thing" to "14 weeks - what is a cobbler?"

THE SHOE GRAVEYARD

I was catching up with a friend recently who was practically staging an intervention after seeing his son's (another trail runner) shoe collection. He thinks owning more than two pairs of shoes is a sign of a moral failing. I had to break it to him about my expensive shoe cemetery under my bed - an ode to epic fails that have only seen 15km of trail - but cost me a small fortune. 

 Although we were on the phone, I could almost hear him wince when I finally told him the net worth of said collection. But there's more, I added - really leaning into the madness:  I described the drama of deciding between an expert cobbler in London vs an unknown one in my local town, as I would have to entrust my latest shoe acquisition to him to attach the velcro for my sand gaiters. I feel like the Sand Gaiter Pioneer of NZ.

Then I broke down the financial tragedy of training with my preferred fuel and electrolytes - because apparently we don't try anything new on race day(week). So no, I can't stockpile fuel and electrolytes for the race whilst using cheap alternatives during my training. 

Don't forget about heat training as we get closer to the race. It turns out we will still be in winter down here in NZ as I head to the desert. Searching for a suitable, affordable place with access to a sauna became my new cause for financial anxiety this week. 

His response?" I didn't realise there was so much involved in preparing for this adventure". 

My response? "As it turns out, neither did I".  

THE FLASK QUEST AND RTP MAGIC

It's not all doom and gloom, though:  As you all know, the Mandatory Item is like our Bible - and it can become a bit of an obsession. I am currently oscillating between the thrill of ticking off each item and the complete overwhelm of the weight of a safety whistle! This is where the joy comes in -  have no fear when your RTP FB community are a click away.

I put out an enquiry about where I could purchase 800ml Raidlight Go flasks, as they seemed to be out of stock everywhere. (ignore the fact that I have accumulated a dozen or more other assorted flasks which are mocking me from my kitchen cupboard). I do believe it was within MINUTES that a donor in the UK answered my call. Remember, I am in NZ - the farthest place from anywhere in the universe - but geography proved to be no match for the RTP magic. A few weeks later, the courier delivered my holy grail flasks to the early childhood centre where I work. The kids were so curious about my funny flasks that I did a lap around the room, demonstrating how I sip from the flasks' straws while hiking or running.

A massive thank you again to the RTP legends for helping me tick off another item on my Mandatory Items list and giving me so much to be grateful for.

Training in the meantime:  I have had the pleasure of a new hiking buddy who, for now, is slow enough for me to keep up with. I also rediscovered two of my favourite trails I used to run while training for triathlons many, many years ago, meaning I can give my current trail a break for a session or two per week. Because we were hammered by storms, all my favourite training grounds have been impacted by slips (mudslides), so my choice of trails has been curtailed. As a result, I am sticking to a route near my house and the beach. 

If it takes a village to get this old girl (Gogo) to Namibia, then I have the best village in the business. 

See you all in Namibia ( now it's in 13 weeks)

Keep up your training and your enthusiasm. 

Karen

(aka Run-Gogo-Run)

My new mantra:

I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go. 

Kia ora, Racing the Planet family! ​

My name is Karen, and I'm a 62-year-old adventurer who's still chasing dreams and embracing challenges. ​ I've always been a bit of a misfit, trading dolls for dirt roads and forts as a kid, and later swapping teenage norms for a 630km bike ride from Johannesburg to Durban. ​ That ride was my first taste of pushing limits, and I've been hooked ever since. ​

Fast forward a few decades, and life brought me to New Zealand, where I rediscovered my love for physical challenges. ​ I joined a triathlon club and completed a few sprint distances. I will admit I was a bit giddy, so I signed up for a half-marathon tri, which (no surprises there) handed me an epic DNF.  No worries, I would just focus on each discipline in isolation, complete a 160km cycling challenge, followed by an open-water swim around Mauao, and even earn a teaching degree at 55 while working full-time. ​

Running, however, has been my Achilles heel—literally. Five fractures and a lot of physio later, I'm back on my feet, stronger and more determined than ever. ​

My journey to Racing the Planet Namibia started during lockdown in 2021, when I stumbled upon Jeff Pelletier's running films on YouTube. ​ Watching his adventures sparked something deep inside me. ​ But it wasn't only his adventures; it was probably more the resilience and courage of the incredible athletes he interviewed. The common thread in all the interviews was - nothing is really impossible. Or rather, even that which seems utterly impossible is actually achievable. Could I really do this? ​ I wasn't sure, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to try. ​ That's when I met Zach, a fellow late bloomer who started running at 57. ​ He believed in me when I doubted myself the most, and his encouragement became the fuel I needed to keep going. ​Zach opened my mind to the concept of possibility rather than all my imagined limitations.

Zach introduced me to his friend Kristina, an incredible coach who's been guiding me for the past 9 months, or according to Training Peaks, with 57 weeks to go until RTP Namib 2026. ​ It hasn't been easy, but every step has been worth it. Zach's passing in July 2025 was a heartbreaking loss, but his words—"Karen, you've got this. ​ Your journey has already started"—still echoes in my mind. ​ I'm here to honour his memory and prove that age, setbacks, and loss don't define our limits. ​

Racing the Planet is more than just a race; it's a community, a journey, and a celebration of resilience. ​ I'm excited (another word for nervous!) to take on Namibia, but I know I'm not alone. To anyone out there wondering if they can do something like this, my advice is simple: take the first step. You might surprise yourself. ​ 

Here's to the adventure ahead! ​

Aroha nui

Karen

P.S. My other mantra is "if at first you don't succeed, try again'.