The greatest run ever
The allure of the Kepler
In the gloom of an early morning, thousands of runners around the country are wide awake and ready to go, nervously contemplating the race ahead.
Many, though, are still in their pyjamas. And not one of them is actually running anywhere.
Instead, they’re glued to their laptops and computers, engaging in an annual tradition that speaks to the modern condition of running. And I’m one of them.
On the first Saturday of July each year, entries open for one of the most popular trail races in the country, the Kepler Challenge. It’s a 60km clamber up, scramble down, and grovel along the Fiordland National Park’s mountainous Kepler Track, near Te Anau.
Because it’s Department of Conservation-managed land, only 450 runners are allowed to start.
And so, at 6.30am on Saturday, more than 2000 runners are logged on to the Kepler website, desperately trying to fill out the entry form and upload it before places run out.
In my haste, I stumble over the simple questions, and stupidly allow auto-complete to take over (which I realise with panic when I see that the ‘‘estimated finish time’’ field now says my address. Duh).
By the time I hit submit, I’m only good enough to make the waiting list, even though it’s only 6.34am. Speed has never been my strength. Hopefully, I’ll get called up, but even if I don’t, I’ll be trying next year. Kepler is on my bucket list.
Getting up early just to enter a race – not even to actually run one – says a lot about the obsessiveness of runners.
We’re so desperate to seek out a challenge, to feel the buzz of standing on the start-line with a bunch of other like-minded types, to sign up for months of training through winter, we’ll do whatever it takes.
And it’s not just ultra marathons like Kepler that draw runners in. Races of all kinds – from the free ParkRun 5km events all around the country every Saturday, to several super-friendly trail race series that roll out over winter – are getting more popular.
The draw of Kepler, for me, has only grown stronger since my running mate, Matt Rayment, took part the past couple of years. He’s been telling stories of its magnificence, tales that only feed the legend of Kepler.
I also like that Kepler is a community event, a local fundraiser, which started in 1988 when three Fiordland College teachers decided to organise a one-off race. These days, an entry is a hot-ticket item, but Kepler retains the community vibe.
Matt says last year’s race, even though it nearly destroyed him, is his ‘‘Greatest Run Ever’’.
It’s stories like the ones Matt tells about Kepler, about the allure of a race which can slay you (there’s photographic evidence of this – of Matt flat on his back in the medical tent after finishing), which I love about running.
It’s why we’ve started this Stuff column – to tell those stories and give that insight.
And it’s why Matt and I have launched a trail running podcast, Dirt
Church Radio, in which we’ll have interesting conversations with interesting runners.
And we’ll be telling stories from listeners about their own ‘‘Greatest Run Ever’’. It might not be a race, it could just be a run around the block that, for some reason, meant the world.