The Pants Of Perspective: One woman's 3,000 kilometre running adventure through the wilds of New Zealand

When I ran, I ran for pleasure. I didn't run for times, to win, to impress: I ran for me. When I ran my bum cheeks rubbed together, so much so that if I was going on a long run I'd have to 'lube up'. I maintained that I was not a 'real' runner - I just liked to run so that I could eat cake.

Anna was never anything like those 'real' runners on telly - all spindly limbs, tiny shorts and split times - but when she read about New Zealand's 3,000-kilometre-long Te Araroa Trail, she began to wonde...