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Time just fizzled away. I had said my dreaded good byes. Some were harder than others. And it was time for my long journey home, across the globe, to happen. Just as I had started, I was a lone traveller, on plane full of strangers. But it felt different to my outward journey, over 9 months ago. The excitement, nerves, nostalgia and sadness were all there, but different. From Auckland I flew to Melbourne, where meeting 4 friends I made in Peru, made my 9.5 hour layover less of a bore. 14 hours on to Dubai, to relieve my sickeningly swollen kankles for a few hours, and 7.5 more to my fair home toon. 40 hours, 6 plane meals, 3 films and 4 episodes of Peaky Blinders carried me back to the loudest welcome party in Newcastle Airport that Thursday lunchtime. Thanks mum.

Little old home hadn’t changed and I felt weirdly like I’d just been away for a week two. Only when I really thought about everything that had happened since the old scabby chin days, did it actually feel quite amazing to be in a place so familiar. And the familiar faces were (and still are) the best bit. With each reunion I feel even more ‘home’. Hiyas are so much better than good byes.

I never set out to ‘find myself’ when I ran away. In fact I was never actually running away (just made a good blog title), more biding my time. But whatever I set out to do, I feel like I have accomplished. And have learned a few things about myself along the way.

After a couple of days re-setting my body clock, a gentle run in Chopwell Woods was in order. Awake at 6am, I shared the forest with the birds and the morning sun. So summer in Newcastle ain’t got much on the Gold Coast heat, but it sure was nicer than bitter wintry Nelson, my last running spot. This familiar forest, which I have explored, navigated, and adventured since I was 8, is a pretty sweet running spot to return to.

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Having been home a couple of weeks now, it feels like ‘real life’ again; worrying about how skint I am/how much debt I’m in; looking forward to future job prospects and shaking like a leaf at the most important interviews I’ve ever attended. I’ve also got stuck straight back in to the fit life: running; my bike; gym; and a return to my beloved boxing club. Every day I think fondly back to my adventures across the globe and my friends dotted around it. But I know returning to the UK was the right thing for me to do. There’s no place like home.

Nelson 

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My long journey home had begun. I knew that Nelson was my last location for running away in New Zealand. From Queenstown I flew on a little whirry plane to Christchurch, then on to Nelson, to visit my Grandma who lives there. With only 24 hours in Nelson I really wanted to make the most of my time, and my last kiwi run. On hearing that the ‘Centre of New Zealand’ was nearby, my destination was decided. 

After an octogenarian bedtime (as much to do with my hangover as with my company; my Queenstwon leaving party had been the night before), my 7:45 alarm wasn’t such the shock it could have been. The cold, however, was. Here’s me thinking I had escaped the Queenstown chills. Well Nelson at 8am was no better. Wriggling into my leggings and darting out the house, I spent the first 20 minutes or so cursing my forgotten gloves. It took some time, but my quick pace got the blood pumping and I finally began to warm up. 

Following the neat map my Grandma had drawn me, I pounded Nelson’s pavements all the way to the Botanical Reserve, which leads up to the Centre of New Zealand. It is also the site of the first ever rugby game in NZ. The aptly named ‘zig-zag path’ wiggled through the bush up towards NZ’s middle and gave me my hill-fix for the day. You know it’s a good one when you’re congratulated by dog walkers along the way. The ascent was well worth it and I was treated to gorgeous views across pretty Nelson, the bay, and mountains beyond. So it turns out it wasn’t actually accurately the centre of NZ but hey who’s measuring? 

   

  

The views were great and the run was a substantial enough hour and fifteen minutes. A great start to my day in Nelson! I couldn’t help but feel I deserved the lovely lunch I was treated to with my Grandma and great aunty later. 

And then my journey continued. Another three days and I would be home. Wow. 

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Everyone loves a bit of drama; a bit of controversy, a fight or some gossip. But it seems that drama may also love me. I can’t just tootle along, going to work, going running, to the gym and occasionally up the mountain to snowboard (fall on my arse). I have to injure myself, have permanently bruised legs, and crash my car into a ditch. Yep that’s right, Arnie is no more. Well he is, but he’s not going far sitting at the bottom of Coronet Peak  with his front wheels like bong eyes. I’m pretty lucky that my spin into a ditch ended how it did. With Arnie (and my travel funds) being the only casualties. 

Naturally my car crash put a bit of a downer on last week. I was planning to sell it to fund my onwards travel, and it was my lifeline to my gym and new running destinations. Thinking about life here without it wasn’t pushing my buttons. Summer back home in the UK with my friends and family was. But negativity is not my niche! Material possessions will not make or break me. With the advice of my personal trainer/life coach I set myself some goals, weighed up my pros and cons and decided to stick out my time in Queenstown and make it great. Cue mega dramatic life changing opportunity email arriving the following morning. What did I say about me and my pal drama?

My decision had been made long before I left the UK for my travels. I would come home if this opportunity ever reared its’ head. I had just over 2 weeks before leaving New Zealand. Now I have 10 days. 

So my time in Queenstown; my runners’ haven, is ticking away. I’ve got lots to fit into my last little time here, including as many runs as I can squeeze around my schedule. Trips up the mountain are on ice. Ha. Not taking anymore risks; I need to be at my personal pinnacle and peak! This week I have enjoyed twilight runs through town, an energetic run to the gym in Frankton (past my fave little rowing boat called ‘Puff ‘n’ stuff II’), and a pinky sunset run to Fernhill. Queenstown is fantastically photogenic as ever and my runs have been most pleasurable. I’ve reached my PB on push-ups in one go (40!) and is it just me or are my biceps and abs looking bulked and buff?! 

   

   

I’m not sure how many people use their travels to get fitter and stronger but Queenstown has served me  well for this. And with this I’m ready to return home and face my future; real life. I’m more than a little excited. 






Queenstown7

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Various things have been prying me away from my running time recently; working throughout daylight hours 5 days a week; body building at the gym; and the all-important social life. My beloved blog is looking a bit lack-lustre at the minute. I need to pull my bloody finger out! Cue me getting injured.

Winter in Queenstown has brought yet another active pursuit to my table: snowboarding! It’s something I had never tried before Sunday, but round here if you ain’t boarding, you must be boring. I’m not always one to follow the hoards, but in this case I’m happy to. So far on my travels I’ve trekked, cycled, kayaked and surfed among others. Adding snowboarding to the list is the natural progression now I’m in the snowy mountains of the South. 

With between us less knowledge than a novice, a friend and I headed up the mountain with the kit I could scrape together through friends and local rental shops. We took to the baby slopes and I, well, took to my arse. It was great fun but a little frustrating to say the least. And given my propensity to injure myself, a little scary. After many bumps, twists and falls we called it a day as a blizzard whipped up and reduced the visibility to less than a teenager’s hot-box. 

  

The following day I woke feeling alright, albeit a bit sore all over. With another day of fitness ahead, I hit the gym early to make some muscle. Maybe not the best idea. Mid-dead lift I realised my lower back wasn’t feeling great. And after a few heavy squats it was feeling even worse. By afternoon my ambitious running plans were reduced to a feeble waddle around the house popping painkillers. I’m pretty sure it’s just a muscular injury and I hope to return to running away by the weekend. When I have 2 more days of snowboarding arranged. Lesson learned?!


Lake Hayes

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Running with someone else can be that extra motivation you sometimes need; to push yourself faster to keep up, to save face and not give up on the big hill, or simply to go for that run you might have otherwise talked yourself out of. So far on my travels, I shared runs with my mum and dad. Until this week, where I have been a super social runner!

One thing I love about New Zealand and Queenstown is the number of outdoorsy and active people you meet. Which has lead auto a new phenomenon of Rosarunningaway: the running date! Respect to anyone who opts for this brave date choice. Are you ready for you and your date to see each other all sweaty, breathless and red? Assuming you haven’t already… Luckily my date and I were pretty well matched pace and fitness-wise. A shared penchant for running is clearly a bonus too. But before I get all Carrie Bradshaw on you, I will leave out the finer details of this conquest. And move on to yesterday’s running mate-date!

Yesterday saw blue skies and rays of sunshine in Queenstown. Lake Hayes, the baby neighbour of mighty Lake Wakatipu, is a running destination I’d been meaning to tick off my list for a while. So my friend, colleague and fellow iron pumper Leroy and I headed over there for an afternoon run. Sat between Frankton and Arrowtown, it’s just a short drive out of town. This new running spot didn’t disappoint; great views and lovely loop track around the lake made for the perfect run. And a good old gossip meant the hour-long run didn’t grow old. 

   

Ok so I was flagging slightly by the end; some injuries sustained whilst trampolining the previous day had left me at less than peak fitness. I must admit I was pleased to reach the car park and see Arnie waiting for us. The run was followed by a less than successful gym sesh thanks to my tramp-ailments. But looking back, I’ve had some nice runs this week, sharing them with someone else makes them that little bit more special. So, anyone fancy going for a run?!

Arrowtown 

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My (now legal) car Arnie is now giving me the freedom I have sometimes felt lacking since arriving in Queenstown. Yes, there are lovely places to run here, but being able to run and write about a new place (when a few months ago I would be in a new place every few days), is refreshing. So this morning with my new found freedom, me and Arnie took the short trip to neighbouring Arrowtown, 19km from Queenstown. 

Arrowtown is a quaint and historic tiny town; the kind of place you’d take your Nan to visit. Rather than parking up in the town centre to ponder the pretty shops and old wooden buildings, we stopped by the river, where a number of trails lead into the surrounding hills. It was the perfect place to happen upon for my run and thanks to the good signage I was able to choose the 8km Sawmill Gully loop trail; perfect for the leisurely afternoon run I had in mind. 

Now the thing about living in a mountainous area in the winter time, is that even when the sun is shining, chances are it won’t reach you. Shaded by the high hills, most places only get treated to a couple of hours of sunshine per day. Leaving the car park along the trail, the sudden chill was undeniable. However, working up a sweat can be the best way to fend off the winter chills; pounding the path I made for the hills, where the sun might still reach the soil. Remnants of last week’s snowfall were everywhere, making the trail slippy, slushy or muddy at most points. Thanks to this it was a steady journey up into the hills and my need for trail shoes rather than road runners was very apparent. 

Up higher I was treated to some sun, lots more mud, and of course fantastic views. I couldn’t help but think of my Dad, a seasoned fell runner, and how he would have enjoyed the run (but definitely left me struggling to keep up!). The trail wound through the gullies, where I guess there was once a sawmill, and crisis-crossed over streams. Miraculously I skipped over the stepping stones every time, avoiding a foot or fall in the river. The final stretch of the trail was a well established, stable and mud-free path where I enjoyed a pacey last few k’s. 

  

Back at the car park I took a closer look at the antiquated little buildings dotted around.  It turned out to be a Chinese settlement, from some of the first Asian immigrants to New Zealand in the gold rush of the late 1800’s. I could only imagine their journey over seas and settlement here in chilly Otago. Looking at their makeshift shacks (reconstructed in the 1980’s), I felt a great amount of respect for the struggles they must have endured. I’ll think twice before I complain about my own cold cabin in wintery Wakatipu. 

  

Queenstown6

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Remember that feeling when you look out of the window, first thing in the morning, to a white winter wonderland, and it’s like you’re part of your own incredible, magical fairy tale? I remembered that feeling this morning. But it felt like a very distant and weak memory, and I wondered how I had ever been so naïve. 

Today was the final day for Arnie (my car)’s warrant of fitness recheck. I’d never driven in the snow before this morning. And I didn’t get very far. In fact I struggled so much turning my car around that I just parked it up right where it had started, only facing the other way. Then I slipped and landed on my bum. I then proceeded to hate my life, cry, and wish I was back home in the UK; where summer is now peeking in to my friend’s and family’s lives. When I spoke to a close friend back home, who had just gone in to labour, I again started thinking of everything I’m missing out on with my loved ones. That was the final straw.

BUT, I am not one to wallow in self-pity. And my fellow runners out there will know that there is no better cure for the blues than bounding out into the world in your trainers. Crying in to the wind and rain is optional (yes I have done it). So away I ran. And with each step, I appreciated the magic of this Queenstown winter wonderland a bit more. By the time I made it to Sunshine Bay, I could feel my toes and life wasn’t so bad after all. 

  

 

I’m always amazed at how much this landscape changes. Looking back to town at the white roofs and tall pines, it was all a bit Scandinavian. On the opposite side of the lake, a passer by would have been none the wiser about the tall mountains hidden by the low snow clouds. And beyond the hills above Sunshine Bay, the sun was desperately trying to sizzle it’s way through the wintry clouds, and patches of blue tentatively glimmered. 

  

I picked up the pace for my return route and made it home without repeating the morning slip. My day was picking up. Arnie made it on to the ploughed roads and we went for a canny drive to warm him up. He passed the wof, I went to the gym; pumped iron, had a spa, drove home, and here I am. A successful weekend and I’m ready for work tomorrow (even if it does mean a day of snow shovelling). People, life is what you make it. 

  

Queenstown5

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Today I ran further than I have done so far in all my travels. I reckon it was about 16km (10 miles) and I’m pretty chuffed I’ve still got it in me. My day started with yoga and a swim but by mid afternoon I was itching to get out running; a feeling which should never be ignored! With the bare essentials: no camera, watch or music; just myself, shorts, vest and trainers, I started away down the steep hill from my cabin. 

A bright Sunday afternoon meant a busy town and I weaved through the tourists and Michael Jackson impersonators along the lakeside. My lap of Queenstown Gardens was just as squiggly. After the park I was free from the town buzz and set off along the Frankton track. I passed cyclists, runners, walkers and some very cute dogs. I hadn’t planned how far I would go but would turn back when I’d had enough. Enough was not had and I pounded the gravel all the way to Frankton. I bounded out onto the first jetty I came to and paused to watch the grey clouds roll in over the mountains across the lake. 
My lust for life (running) was still pulsing through me and I kept the pace up all the way back to town. Skipping Queenstown Gardens on my return I again weaved the lakeside as the sun was dying and rain started to spit down. Not even my Beyoncé hill would stand in my way. I trotted up to impressed comments from passers by whom I passed by. This picture is of the fabled hill, but from another day when I wasn’t camera-free. Only at the top did I double over, panting, and stumble the last few metres to my door. I’ve just felt a bit sick since then. Apart from that, amazing. 

  

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It’s all change in my life right now (new hometown, new job, new season…) and the most recent evolution is my purchasing of a car. And it’s not just ‘a’ car, it’s my first ever car! It also came with a free kayak (!) among many other bits and bobs including a jar of jam and a trance CD. So it doesn’t have a warrant of fitness or registration but that’s beside the point, don’t try and tell me I didn’t get a good deal on this bad boy! Today was my first day off this week and this morning was spent pursuing that all important warrant of fitness to get my ride legal. It wasn’t as simple as dropping it off at a garage to get it ship shape, like I’d hoped, but it seems it will be an affordable, if a little timely, fix up. Here’s a pic of the beast (minus kayak).

 

After a while of driving between various garages (who knew there were all different kinds?!), I drove to the gym for a personal training session, ensuring no eye contact was made with passing police. I was little early so strapped up my sneaks and headed out on to the surrounding playing fields to get a cheeky 5k in. There’s not much to report as it was a pretty plain route compared to some of my recent runs. The Remarkables looked down on me under a grey sky, and a plane took off on the airport runway behind the fields. 

  

Nevertheless, my little jog had me warmed up and ready for some iron pumping; I got a good session in at the gym, working on my legs and chest. My body building is going well anyway, I feel like I’m getting back to the tone (or even more than) I had at home when I trained at a boxing gym. Jodie Marsh eat your heart out! 


Queenstown4

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So my posting has been a bit lacking recently, probably because I am now a fully fledged, employed, real human being. I’m settling in to my life in Queenstown and my new job, but no longer feel such a free-spirited nomad, inspired to run and write by each new destination. However it’s a nice change to feel grounded and have some sort of home and routine. 

The routine in question revolves around my employment on the world famous Queenstown luge. What, you don’t know what a luge is?! Ok so I was a bit hazy before I went and saw it myself…maybe New Zealand famous might be more accurate… But it’s a cool job all round: riding the luge; seeing people having fun every day; being in hundreds of go pro videos wearing an oversized raincoat; and working with fun people. It was these fun people who lead to my most recent run being, well, a bit of a struggle. 

Despite following the golden gospel of “beer then wine, you’ll feel fine (wine then beer, you’ll feel queer)”, I didn’t exactly feel fine on my last day off. Maybe I’ll always feel a little bit queer after a night with the lugies. But I would not be defeated by those jäger bombs. I donned my trainers and packed my gym bag. I was going for the double whammy; run to the gym and then pump iron!

It’s a nice flat route along the lakeside to my gym, which is around 7km. Theoretically easy peasy, but not that day. The great thing about running in beautiful places is that stopping to take photos is a great excuse to have a breather and is completely acceptable. I lived by this and punctuated my journey with photo shoots and stopping to gaze. My steady pace gave me time to notice the details I might usually miss; the many mushrooms popping up now it’s autumn; the tiny mouse jumping through the grass by the track. As it always does, the fresh air flushed my body of toxins and self pity and I hit the gym ready to PUUUSH. Despite taking an hour to run the 7k, it was a fruitful foray. I must go and investigate those fungi varieties more closely on my next day off…