Poor Life Decisions

-Start line of the 2017 Tarawera 50km Ultramarathon Race-

*Record Scratch*

*Freeze Frame*

Yup, that’s me. Now you’re probably wondering how I got here…

A bunch of poor life decisions have lead me to this place. Like any good story I guess we’ll start at the end with the latest one I’ve made. After the mild disappointment of last years Tikitapu event and the large case of FOMO it caused, the idea of attempting one of the Tarawera marathons has been swirling around in the old melon ever since. So when the entries for this years event opened, the idea started gathering momentum fuelled in part by peer pressure, in particular from one Liz Palmer. Finally it hit terminal velocity and I found myself entering my details on the registration page. Then came the distance question, and this time it was the words of my mate Malcolm that moved the mouse to the 50k – “if you’re going 42km, why not just go another 8km”. The result of this ladies and gentlemen is that I’m going to be toeing the line in November for the Tarawera 50km Ultramarathon.

As this will be a huge physical and mental effort, I have to say that before I clicked ‘enter’ I made sure to check with my trainer Chris as to his option on whether this would be something I would be capable of finishing. While we felt confident that I would be able to make 50km, but it would be a very long day and I would not be a very happy chappy at the end. But rather than just make this another long grind, I’d like to run a lot of it, run with friends that have also entered and most importantly enjoy the hell out of it. So Chris and I sat down and over a few hours aired our concerns and fleshed out a plan.

But between now and then there is metric shit ton of work to do to get ready, with a lot of focus on undoing the damage caused by years of more poor life decisions, like up-sizing my combos. A mayor concern for us both was my weight; Chris from a wear and tear on my body angle and me from a wanting to buy cool new running gear angle. To address this I have 12 weeks of focusing on weight loss. The new plan has me shunning the empty calories of bread, turning my back on the sweetness of sugar, ignoring the siren calls of the pies, and with a tear in my eye empting the beer from my fridge.

After these first 15 weeks, I’ll be a leaner meaner Brent and ready to attack a 20 week marathon plan, after a quick OK from my doctor at the request of my wife. At the moment I’m not sure which block is going to be the hardest; one has double run days, the other has no crafties. Also between now and then I also have: three 10k’ers, four half marathons, an ultra half, plus undoubtedly an imperial crap load of training kilometres – shit. But I’m confidant everything will go to plan and I’ll remain injury free long enough to have an awesome day as I try to become an ultra runner, no doubt with Peter Brock’s words in my head.