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Looking at the pictures of the Otter Run, something that strikes me is the amount of detail I’ve forgotten about the event – in my mind it had all become a blur of endless stairs, surprisingly jovial moods and mind-blowing scenery. Whether this is because my mind has repressed the pain or because I was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the Trail, I’m not quite sure. I’m inclined to say that it’s a combination of both.
A phrase frequently repeated by participants after the race was that “the only thing that can prepare you for the Otter Trail is the Otter Trail”. I found this to be astonishingly true; and something that I’m glad I was unaware of beforehand. In the weeks leading up to the event, I found myself swinging between extreme excitement and unreserved terror that I’d entered myself into something verging on the physically impossible – and the alarmed looks on the faces of colleagues when I told them what I had planned were not exactly helpful.
Slightly less helpful was the pre-race briefing the night before the start in which it was repeatedly mentioned – in various not-so-cushioned ways - that the event was to be anything but easy. But, despite the warnings and dissuasion there was still an overwhelming feeling of excitement on race day morning. The participants filled their respective buses, and, among much nervous banter, we drove from the finish at Nature’s Valley where we had camped back up the coast to the start at Storms River Mouth, (an intimidatingly long drive).
As I mentioned, the 7 hours and 18 minutes of the actual run are something of a blur... we began, at 5:30am, with a climb up the longest set of stairs I’d ever seen in my life, only to find out that this was not one of the many “significant climbs” that characterise the Trail. It was probably at the top of the third set of these stairs that I first realised precisely what I was in for – and that despite discovering 20 new types of pain and about 50 new muscles in my body (all of which can cramp) this was going to be one of the most unforgettable events I’d ever do.
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While the boulder-hopping, the arduous climbs, the tricky descents and the river-crossing were all thoroughly enjoyable aspects of the run, it was the incredible scenery and views that literally stopped me in my tracks that made this race so memorable for me. Truly, there are no words...
Having exhausted my repository of adjectives there’s one thing left for me to mention about the Otter Run: the organisation required for an event of this size and nature is a momentous task and one that was performed fantastically. It apparently took almost four years and extensive planning and negotiating to obtain permission for a trail run to be held on the Otter Trail. This, along with the seamless accommodation, transportation and safety arrangements on a route which has severely limited access is a highly praiseworthy achievement. Next year I’ll definitely be back for Otter, and might even have forgotten the pain sufficiently to daringly enter the five day event, Southern Storm.
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