Hitting the Breaking Point

MARCH 17/11 . DAY #154 . 12 KM .


Tomorrow I have a physio appointment booked. It’s time. My knees are shot, which causes my hip to act up. My right Achilles is strained – pain flares up through my heel. And then the entire sole of my foot feels as though it has pulled apart. Great.

So physiotherapy appointment it is. I only hope I have enough left in me to finish this trek. Minor details.




Royal Hut - where Prince Charles once stayed

 Yup. That’s right. Here we are in Twizel and it’s my time to shine in the injury department. After the Rangitata River Alex and I spent the next few days following the track over saddles, across rivers and through tussock-covered land. Perfect territory for my body to decide to give up. Climbing up Stag Saddle (at 1925m high, it is said to be the highest point of the Te Araroa Trail) my Achilles tendon started to feel strained. I had to adjust the way I climbed upwards to avoid the shooting pain I’d feel on the back of my ankles with each step I took.

Reaching the top of the saddle proved to be a memorable moment in our journey, but more so for the fact that our trail notes told us to “follow the markers” down the other side to the valley where we were to continue along the river to the next hut. The bit that wasn’t mentioned is though there were multiple markers present within the next nearly 10km; they were so spread out from one another that Alex and I were wishing we had a pair of binoculars on us to spot them. At each marker we got to, Alex and I would have to stop and strain our eyes to the furthest point we could see in order to try and spot the next marker hidden in amongst the tussock-ridden ground. It was like a real life version of Where’s Waldo as it became somewhat of a game to see how quickly we could find the next marker to continue onwards.

Coming down the saddle itself proved to be a mission as my knees began to indicate that they were not having much fun anymore. I chose to press on, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling under my knee caps. The day was not over yet. There was no option but to continue. And so we did.

After a quick break at the next hut, Alex and I decided to make the final push of the day – the only issue being that after the break (of which I taped up my Achilles tendon) my knees had completely stiffened up. Now, every step I took, caused severe pain to scream out from beneath my kneecaps with every. Single. Step. I fought back the tears because there was nothing I could do about it right then. Every couple of steps I had to stop and take a deep breath, trying to relax the seized up muscles and tendons around my knees. It’s all part of the adventure – right?



Alex climbing up Stag Saddle

 As I went, I started to take chalk of my “injuries.” None of them were anything to lose sleep over on their own, but put together (including the hip pain that came from walking differently due to the knee pain) I knew I had to do something about it. I wanted to finish Te Araroa Trail, but I didn’t want to finish it having ruined my body.

And so here we are in Twizel doing just that. I set off to the physio today with the knowledge that I may come back out with news that I should not be continuing the trek. Not exactly the happiest thought I have ever had in my head, but it was there just the same.

Fortunately, when the physiotherapist asked me “What’s wrong?” and I listed off my countless points of pain (knees, hip, Achilles and foot), he was able to go through each one and account the pain to be a warning from my body rather than an actual injury. That pretty much just means that my body has about had enough of walking – of walking all day with a pack on my back. It’s time to finish up this trek and finish it before I actually do seriously injure myself.

Alex and I make it to the top of Stag Saddle (1925m)

I went back to the caravan park to inform Alex of the “good” news that I can still walk, but I need to be careful. Armed with new stretching exercises to relieve the tension in my muscles and tendons during each break of the day, I taped up my foot and packed up my gear – again. We’re off - on a mission to the finish line. Heaven knows what tomorrow brings and I only hope that my body hangs on there – a few more weeks to go.

I hope I can do it.