UTA50 2025 Reflection
Preface: This has been written in retrospect, several months later, in an attempt to have a complete set of race reflections.
This one was fun. It would have been easy to brush UTA50 off as an easy step down from the 100 km distance at Tarawera. Half the distance, half as hard, right? Wrong.
Situated in the Blue Mountains of NSW, UTA provides a stunning yet brutal setting for trail running. Completely unlike anything you’d find in New Zealand. Well-made tourist trail, technical single trail, fire roads and stairs, stairs, stairs. Half the distance of Tarawera, with equal elevation. In contrast to Tarawera, Liv and I travelled down from Newcastle alone. Race morning was a relatively chill affair. The 45-minute drive from our accommodation in Penrith was spent sipping on fluids, cranking a few bangers, and chatting over our crew plan again.
My UTMB index at the time would place me in the second start wave. Feeling like the real race was already away up the road, I found myself sitting relatively comfortably towards the front of the second wave. Unknown to me at the time, this positioning would largely set the tone for the day. As we rolled through the first 10 km, time passed chatting with my fellow runners. Gradually we started to pass runners in the 100-mile event (the inaugural miler for UTA, in fact), which would be another factor that would shape the day. There wouldn’t have been more than 10 minutes on course when you didn’t pass a miler. These were individuals who had been running since the previous morning. Talk about perspective when things start to get a little hard. I got real joy and reciprocal motivation from encouraging each of the milers as we came across them.
To very briefly describe the UTA50 course, you essentially spend the first 30 km navigating the cliff tops, regularly dropping down into steep valleys, until you reach the Queen Vic Hospital aid station. In this time, I was able to see Liv twice, executing our well-dialled bottle and gel handovers. From here the real race starts. You descend for about 8 km on a fire road into the Jamison Valley. Once you reach the Kedumba River at the bottom of the valley, you’re looking at another 1000-plus metres of ascent over 15 km back to the finish.
It was on the descent to the Kedumba River that I met Aaron. Also from Scotland and now living on the Sunshine Coast, he and I shared stories of emigration, living the Aussie lifestyle, and, of course, what our choices of carbs for the day were. Given that descending is definitely not my strong point, this interaction could not have come at a better time. Things were really starting to hurt, but before I knew it, we hit the river and it was time to start climbing our way home. Only those who have run any of the UTA events that follow this route will understand when I say how brutal this last section is. What feels like endless fire road, with sections so steep you’re given no option but to resort to a hands-on-knees march. I genuinely question how this is possible at the end of the miler. As painful as this was, I must say, I bloody loved it. If descending is my shortfall, climbing is where I feel strongest. UTA really highlighted this for me and, in reflection, the hills at Tarawera were probably where I felt my best.
Climbing the 951 Furber Steps to the finish line is a bit of a surreal experience. One minute you’re running solo through what feels like a prehistoric jungle, and the next you’re moving like you’ve been struck by a flash bang as you desperately crawl and pull your barely functioning body to the top of the steps. Then it’s sensory overload. Bright signage, cheering supporters and blaring music. Then just like that, it’s over.
UTA was only ever intended to be a follow-up to Tarawera, using the fitness I had gained and experiencing what Aussie trail running had to offer. Little did I know it would set my focus for the next 12 months. In summary, UTA was equal parts joy and misery. Just what any good ultra should be. It would be my first proper experience of the Aussie trail running scene, and it coincided with my joining the RunLab crew in Newcastle. I was in for a memorable and formative year of training.
