Old Ghost ultra 2026 - a run of redemption

A Different Kind of Startline 

Standing on the start line of the Old Ghost ultra for the third time I wanted this one to count. My first year I had to fight the beast that is epilepsy just to get to the start line, the second time mother nature came knocking and forced a course change to an out and back … which was not as easy as it sounds, and so this third time was to be my race of redemption, the one I was intending to complete on my terms! Even though I had technically completed this event twice, it was not without hardship, nor to the best of my abilities.

Race week feelings

The days leading into race day had been slightly worrisome in that I had come on my period and felt like absolute rubbish with pain and nausea, making eating hard which was less than ideal. This had increased anxiety leading into race day but thankfully symptoms eased just in time for race day for me to know that I could still get out there and enjoy my day. 

3am and the nerves arrive 

3am on race morning, the alarm went off and brought the nerves with it. I am NOT a morning person, and my body felt heavy, my mind resistant to the demands of the day ahead as I dressed and ate breakfast. 

3am in the hostel kitchen and I was NOT vibing!

Soon enough it was time to take the short walk from the hostel to the bus and I hopped on feeling uneasy. I’m well aware that a finish is never guaranteed and no matter how prepared you are it's impossible to know how race day will unfold.  As the bus took us on the 45 minute journey from Westport to Seddonville I could feel the anxious butterflies making themselves known.  Running would be the only cure. 

And we’re off …

It was still dark when we arrived at the start line, head torches flickered, people purposefully checked in and sorted gear, deposited drop bags and exchanged nervous and excited chatter about the day ahead. The start line carried a quiet sense of purpose, but you could feel the nerves flickering just beneath it. 

One great thing to note this year was the extra portaloos and the positive effect it had on the queues for the loos. No rationing of nervous pees was much appreciated. Thanks OGU team! (Only a runner would understand how awesome this extra detail could be LOL.)

Cold and nervous but fully focused on the task ahead

Soon enough we started filing in towards the start line and after singing a tuneful happy birthday to one of the competitors we were sent on our way. Into the darkness we went, “only” 85 kilometres and 2700m elevation gain between us and the finish line. 

I approached the first section of this race slightly differently to previous years, going out faster than usual knowing I wanted to get ahead of some of the bottle necks that can occur on the single tracks and bridges in the early few kilometres. After 1.5 kilometres I backed off to a steady pace and found a spot in the pack that I knew would suit me until the first aid station at Specimen Point.  

It felt to be good to get going

If I was to beat my last time of 12 hours and 44 minutes back in 2023 I didn’t want to be held up - turned out to be a good tactic and the going was smooth with almost no holdups.

My head torch lit the way for the first hour, and as I ran high alongside the Mokihinui River, the sun began to rise. This trail has my heart, and despite my body feeling sluggish, I could still appreciate how lucky I was to be there.

Settling In

A perfect weather forecast was ahead of us, high cloud, mid teen temperatures and almost no wind. We literally couldn’t have asked for anything better from a running perspective.

It’s such a remote trail — once you’re in, you’re in — which makes me feel so small, but so alive. Primal, even. Life is simple out there. No one can contact me, no one needs me. All I have to do is put one foot in front of the other until the end. It’s a moment of simplicity I find myself chasing; an antidote to the speed and intensity that daily adulting brings.

Soon enough I was out of my long sleeve top, and enjoying the feeling of the air on the bare skin of my arms. County hill, our first hill to tackle, came and went, feeling insignificant in the grand scheme of things, I didn’t push too hard here and a few overtook me. The day was young and I was conserving energy. 

As I entered Specimen Point aid station I did a quick refill of the flasks and paid some time tax doing “female admin" before heading out 14 minutes ahead of my previous time.

A tougher start than expected

Those first 30 kilometres were tough mentally which I was surprised and a bit disappointed about. But despite feeling flat and resistant, I made myself smile and keep going because I knew there was nothing physically wrong. 

Ultra isn’t supposed to be easy, we all meet that tough spot somewhere in the race where we have to make a choice. Do we take the easy option, slow down and walk or perhaps even quit? Or do we push through, using all the physical and mental training we have been building up to this point?

The answer is simple but not easy. Our primal brains want to keep us safe, they will try to convince us to stop but part of training is to learn how to recognise this, so that when we face that primal part of ourselves, we can give it the middle finger, push it to one side and keep moving forward. 

It was unusual for me to feel this way so early in the race. Perhaps it was just energy lows due to my period, or lack of sleep from the night before, but regardless I knew that success is not born from never facing challenges. Success is built on how we manage those challenges, so I kept smiling, gave my primal brain the metaphorical middle finger and told myself I was having a great time until it became a fact and I actually did start enjoying myself!

The mental shift - and onto the Boneyard

Uphills are golden as far as I am concerned, I love nothing more than to hit an uphill, push off my poles and plough on. So hitting the hill that would take me up to the Boneyard was a relief and I felt my mentality start to shift with the gradient as I began the rocky zig zags up past the Hanging judge and on towards Solemn Saddle gaining height quickly. 

As you reach the top of the Boneyard the views stretch out for miles beneath you, the track leading between Lake Grim and Lake Cheerful and on through Earnest Valley looking picturesque but oddly moody with a sky full of clouds. 

I adore this downhill section and took off as smoothly as possible falling behind a pack of runners, who were joyfully talking and seemed to be having a great day, allowing their upbeat energy to take me all the way to Stern Valley hut. 

Up to the ridgeline via the Skyline Steps

Once at Stern Valley hut I was met by the familiar party atmosphere and my heart lifted again. I was almost halfway and even though I knew I had a big climb ahead, I felt confident that I would be able to lock in and take it steadily all the way to Ghost Lake hut. It is the hardest section by far but also the most beautiful with stunning ridgelines that own the most amazing views. 

Thanks to all the helpful crew at this aid station I was able to make this transition as quick as possible despite needing to pay yet more female time tax. Before I knew it I was on the long winding trails deep in the forest that would eventually lead me up high onto the ridgeline for those epic views. 

Before the ridgeline though I had to make a choice - Skyline Steps or the new set of switch backs? We had been told at briefing this was our choice and having completed these steps before I knew they were tough, uneven and plentiful but you gain elevation quickly so I figured it was short term pain. 

Myself and another runner teamed up at this point and fell into pace with each other as we tackled those dastardly stairs. I used my old technique of counting them as I went - haphazardly - my counting skills whilst exercising has never been very accurate … but 35, 36, 39, 40 is perfectly acceptable, right?

A Ridgeline of epic proportions

Soon enough we popped out the top onto the rocky ridgeline where boulders towered over me making me feel even smaller than I do on a normal day. It feels otherworldly, the mountain ranges stretching all around as far as the eye can see, sharp and jagged and covered by dense, dark green west coast rainforest. Breath-taking. 

I continued along the ridge and took the short descent that leads across the saddle where Ghost Lake hut, our next destination was visible, tiny and perched within the forest on a hill that seemed to tower over us, the appearance far scarier and intimidating than the reality, although the legs were getting heavy by this point and a few blisters had started to form … eek. 

The blisters forced me to stop at the hut for a short while and remove my shoes to tape the angry spots on my feet. Taping complete I tried to move through the rest of the general aid station admin quickly but my body temperature had dropped and getting going again was HARD! Rookie error! Note to self: put on a warm layer before stopping next time!

A chilly re-start

I definitely created myself a time penalty for not staying warm, and upon leaving the aid station I was cold, slow and sluggish, finding it hard to get back up to pace and moving again. I was annoyed at myself for not managing my temperature better but also knew I just needed to push through until I regulated again. Within 15 minutes I was more comfortable but my energy was certainly waning a bit. I was officially fed up of going uphill, despite my earlier enthusiasm for it, and couldn’t wait for the downhill sections to start. 

Past Heaven’s door,  where I took the obligatory selfie, I moved on as fast as I could, towards that blissful promise of the upcoming downward switchbacks. I was impatiently looking forward to this bit because despite a few blisters I was still feeling strong overall and knew that I had heaps more to give. I was well on target to beat my 12 hour goal which had felt ambitious at the start of the day during those first 30k’s. 

Downhill Fun

I started the downhill and revelled in the easier effort level that gravity afforded me. It felt amazing. The downhill was flowing and I was semi-falling in somewhat of a controlled fashion along it - nothing graceful to be seen here folks, but I was having a lot of fun! 

I allowed myself to work harder, estimating how long I could hold the pace for and enjoyed watching the kilometre markers tick by at a much more exciting speed. My feet were feeling tender but manageable - my taping had been haphazard at best - but it seemed to be helping. 

Lyell saddle and a flat grind

Before I knew it I was at Lyell saddle hut aid station and I went through once again as quickly as possible, thanks to another team of incredible volunteers.

This next section, after Lyell Saddle, deserves a mention as it’s not often talked about. It makes you work for it. On paper it looks insignificant. On a normal day, it probably would be. But with almost 70 kilometres in the legs, it doesn’t feel that way at all.

It’s about 5 kilometres of almost flat running, with a few small undulations but no real gain or loss in elevation. After the glorious 10 kilometre downhill, this flat section feels like it goes on forever, a quiet kind of hard that gnaws at the legs and drains the energy. 

I worked through it, biting off small chunks of the trail, forcing the legs to keep on turning over despite them starting to need a bit more convincing, before the blissful downhill returned again, promising to carry me all the way to the finish line. 

The Final Push

Tiredness definitely entered the chat here and I started tripping on things, small stones or tree roots would jump out at me, causing me to stumble, arms flailing madly, fighting to stay on my feet. More than once I saved myself from what would have been nasty falls had I continued on that trajectory, but determined to not end my race before I reached the finish line, I stayed upright and before I knew it I was counting down the single digit kilometre markers, desperate now to finish just so I could sit down. 

My breathing laboured, legs exhausted and energy tank empty I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted the final bridge and somehow managed to scramble/hop/fall up that notorious, final flight of steps as the crowds cheered me onto and over the finish line in 11 hours and 18 minutes. Almost an hour and a half quicker than my first attempt back in 2023. 

Final Reflections

I’d set out that morning aiming for a run of redemption, and somehow despite feeling less than spritely to begin with, that’s exactly what I ended up with. 

In the end what made this run even more special was being at the finish line for two athletes I had been coaching, Mike and David, who were taking on OGU for the first time and absolutely smashed it, coming over the finish line looking relieved but strong.

Post race debriefing! Sharing war stories from the trails

Seeing them was the cherry on top of an already fabulous day, and a reminder of why I’m so drawn to this space. It’s full of people willing to push themselves to the brink, in a shared curiosity about how far the human body and mind can go.

It’s no longer just about what I can accomplish, but also how I can support others to go further and faster, both physically and mentally and I feel incredibly lucky to be able to play even a small part in that.

A great day on the trails for Team Wild Runner Coaching!