Ground on Down

TrailsPlus Mountain Trail Series - Race 2 (Macedon)

My third trail race. And they just get harder, and harder! To work out why I was toeing the start line on a cold, but brilliantly clear May day, I have to backtrack a little bit. As a long time (on and off since 1985) road runner, my recent conversion to the trail has come with somewhat of a evangelical zeal. Having finished Roller Coaster Run in a pretty decent time, and flushed with success, I cast my eye around for something else to do. A running friend, Cheryl, had been told that Macedon was a good test and one for her abilities (read tough) and maybe she should have a go at it. She mentioned it to me, and for a while we dithered around until we had sorted out our respective racing calendars for the next couple of months. Then we signed up.

It wasn't until we had signed up that we both suddenly realised how bloody hard this race was going to be. Talking to fellow trail runners, words like, "horrendous", "awful", "muddy", "relentless", "bloody awful" etc., were thrown around with gusto. Shit, what had we got ourselves in for? Some hastily organised runs with Dandenong Trail Runners (elevation please?), only served to leave us with the impression that we may have overreached. Leading up to the race, I found as many steep hills in my local area, and ran them repeatedly leading up to race day. Unfortunately I also went and had a look at the elevation profile. Still not sure if that was a good idea.

Macedon 30k Trail Race elevation profile. Note the canyon like section at the 11-12k mark! And the steep drop at the 18k mark! And the relentless climb from the 19 to 23k mark! Total elevation gain for the 30k race is 1170 metres. Elevation plots never show mud or rocks though. Mind you, the 50k elevation plot is completely bonkers!

Anyway, the weekend got of to a flyer when, at 11:15 on the Saturday morning, Nicky and I are just about to get some last minute supplies. The phone rings; did we know we were supposed to have the dog at the kennel before 12:00 closing time? Err, no. Major panic, the kennel is over an hour away. Some pleading with the staff lands us an extra half hour. By the time we got back home, packed very quickly, and ushered son and dog to the car, we were so late all we could do was start driving and ring them back to say "sorry, but we can't get there on time"! Drove through Melbourne enroute to Gisborne having left a message with the accommodation owners asking if it was okay to keep the dog there the night. They never called us back, so we drove up on a wing and a prayer.

Got to the cottage at 4 to find the owners were okay with the dog. Phew. Too much stress, too soon! Actually I'd been very calm all week, even as we drove up and I caught my first glimpse of the Macedon Ranges, I was still quite calm. Before Melbourne Marathon I was bricking it for at least a few days! As per usual, I get all my race kit out and meticulously go through it the night before; I hate race day surprises! Race day dawned clear and cold, but the weather looked absolutely perfect. Time to get this thing started.

The drive up is through the beautiful township of Mt. Macedon, in full autumnal blush. Low cloud/fog added atmosphere to the scenery. It was a very calm and measured start for the day. Arrived at the race start with just under an hour before the race, plenty of time to register and prepare (or so I thought...). Bumped into a few people that I had only ever met online (Facebook and Strava), which is always nice to finally do. Also caught up with Fiso and Chris, trail runners I have met along the way in Victoria, before the start. None of us having done this, and not sure what to expect either. Pre-race brief was the usual warnings and pleadings to take care on certain sections of track, pay attention to track markers and, most of all, "enjoy yourselves". Always love that one before a long distance race!

Milling around just before race start.
Weather cold, but clear - perfect racing conditions.

About 3 minutes before the race was due to start, I suddenly realised that my relaxed attitude to race preparation was not working; I needed to get a move on. Made it to the start line with a minute to spare, quick photo for Instagram (do I never learn anything, refer to Two Bays race report for what could go wrong taking photos just before a race!), then we were off.

The first 4 kilometres gave an indication of the track ahead, ground rocky and a little slippery underfoot after recent rain. I started out at a steady, but slow pace, trying not to take off like a number of other runners were doing. Made sure the breathing was controlled, the feet moving nicely, and being careful not to tread on rocks or tree roots. At about the 3k mark I ran up behind Fiso and Chris. This wasn't what I expected. As I drew up beside them I voiced the thought in my head, "Have I gone out too fast?". The reply was worse than I expected, Chris had rolled his ankle 2k's into the race, on one of the rocks on the path. They were running together to get him to the next aid station where he would retire. Crappy start to the day. I continued on knowing that Fiso would catch up and pass me.

Just as the watch beeped for the 4k mark we started the first climb to Camels Hump. At this point I was still in touch with the leaders as the flew past on their way back down. Fiso, as expected, passed me on the way up. It was a relief to get to the top, briefly take in the outstanding view, then the exhilarating descent back down on the path. We turned further downhill and dropped down before climbing back out towards the Mount Macedon Road. Along this section I suddenly thought I had taken a wrong turn. The main track went right, but a smaller track went left. There were no markers, on the ground or on stakes, no ribbons hanging from branches etc. I stopped and pulled out the printed map I was carrying in my pack, and was just about to admit that I had no idea where I was, when 2 runners came up behind me. Either they were also lost, or as it turned out, we were all on the correct track.

Crossed the road then headed along an undulating track that wasn't too bad to run on; not many rocks or tree roots to worry about. Came out at a picnic area, so some lovely manicured grass to run across before we re-entered the forest on a very clean, formed gravel track. I was running on my own, but had runners in front and behind me all the time. Came out at a junction where we completed a 400 metre loop around the old Sanatorium site, through elm trees that were dropping tons of leaves on the track, and back to the junction again. Down Baringo Road past the 8k aid station, turn left onto another road for about half a k, then turn off back onto some more tracks. This eventually lead us to the steepest descent of the day, and the most slippery section of the race. A fire trail, gradient going down somewhere between 15 to 30%, with no real easy path to traverse. Mud on the wheel tracks, slippery muddy rocks in the centre, and slippery muddy bracken ferns on either side. I saw some very impressive slide marks where runners had clearly gone too fast and tried to apply the brakes!

Carried this map in my pack for reference. Needn't have bothered, I was flummoxed by the 8k mark!

Just as I finished descending this, I climbed equally as steeply out on another road where if you slipped, you grabbed anything in your hands you could find to arrest the slide. Thankfully the new Salomon S-Lab XT6 (plug, plug!) trail shoes I bought several weeks before were just brilliant getting up here. No need to use handholds, I just trusted the grip they gave me. As I climbed I saw lots of other competitors struggling up here. Managed to catch up with a few and finally, after what seemed like ages, we breasted the hill and climbed out towards the road at the 13k aid station. Very enthusiastic vollies here, lots of yummy food (fruit cake, bananas etc.) so I briefly stopped and got some food into me.

The next section took us through 'The Pines'. Yep, a pine forest, pinus radiata to be exact. Normally I associate these forests with damp, dark conditions ideal for breeding mosquitoes with no under-storey due to the poisonous pine needles killing everything underneath. I wasn't disappointed. And it was a hard slog of a climb to get to the top, only to almost retrace your steps to the bottom. The exciting part though, was to avoid the BMX jumps located along the path on the twisting descent. Try and jump one of these and calamity would most likely happen. We then had to climb (again) back out onto a road which doubled back round to what was now the 15k aid station (actually the 13k, just second time around). I must say, I was hopelessly out of touch with where I was on the map. Best not to look at it again!

Beyond here the race became 'interesting' (read technical, hard etc.) Just past the 15k aid station, we turned off the road and bush-bashed for a couple of k's. I'm serious, the track was ill-defined, overgrown and steep going down. There were lots of little drop-offs that had you thinking major air time, but to trip here would be disastrous. As it was, my previously infallible shoes, good on soft ground, were found wanting when I stepped on to either a rock, or a log covered by undergrowth. My foot slipped, then gripped just as I about to go around a largish tree. All I could do was cannon into the tree at pace, putting my arms out in front to act as a slowing piston. I stopped with both hands on the trunk, and my nose mere centimetres away! It could have been very ugly. (about 5k's later I discovered that my right hand was black from the charcoal of the burnt bark.) A minute later someone came hurtling past me, obviously more sure footed than I was. Finally the track ended after a 100 metre elevation drop, on to a road; but not before you had to leap off a large drop to get on to the road.

3D profile of the 30k course on Mt. Macedon. Far too much orange, red, blue, and black on the right-hand side there!
(Image coutrtesy of veloviewer.com)

Having lost all that elevation we climbed (Really, again?) back up the road for a long steady climb towards Mt Towrong. This was all road, muddy and with puddles after recent rain. I caught up with the runner that passed me in the bush and together we caught another runner who had been ahead of us. The 3 of us stayed fairly close together along the road, having the occasional walk on the steeper sections. By now we have covered over half the distance (about 17 to 18k's). Just when it felt like we couldn't climb any higher, we turned left off the road on to another section of single track. This was rocky and uneven and along here I got in front of the other 2 runners and pushed on. As I was running I spotted a wombat poo, perfectly balanced on a piece of tree root, 5 or so centimetres off the ground. A: how do they do that, and B: why do they do that there, rather than the ground? Are they just showing off? A minute later the trees parted and we were presented with a glorious view of Mt. Macedon township, all the trees in full autumnal colour. This also preceded the really tricky section. It was rocky, exceedingly so, and still wet after the morning dew and fog. To run down successfully we had to step side-to-side very quickly, keeping a keen eye on where the feet landed. It reminded me of a performance artist playing the piano, with their feet! Or a frenetic game of hopscotch. Still we dropped down. The rocks gave way to steps cut into the ground; very slippery if shoe hit wood. My quads were aching and I was feeling the first real signs of fatigue in my legs.

Finally the last set of stairs was spotted and we dropped on to Anzac Drive. I was deliriously happy to stop descending, until I realised that we now had to climb back up over the next 4.5 kilometres. Good feeling gone! Another aid station (19k mark), but I didn't stop as I had enough water in my back pack, and food tucked into pockets. By now there was only 1 other runner with me, and I slowly drew away from him heading up towards the reservoir. Started passing 50k runners (they had a 1 hour head start and did our 30k course, with another 20 tacked on the back; legends) and headed up towards the Zig Zag track.

There had been 2 runners ahead of me from about the 3k mark that I'd kept seeing throughout the race. One wearing an orange coloured shirt, the other in red. Heading up Anzac Drive I spied them ahead of me by about 2 to 300 metres. I made a point of trying to see if I could catch them. Took me about 2k's, but I finally caught up going round one of the twists on the Zig Zag track. I didn't necessarily need to run with anyone else, nor speak to them, but it was just good to have someone else close by to measure my effort and performance. As you do, we struck up conversation ("how %$#@* tough is this", "Have you done this before", "How many trail races have you done", etc. etc.) and we discovered that we had all run Roller Coaster, and run fairly similar times. So, for the next couple for kilometres, we climbed up, running parts, walking others as we pushed on to the next aid station, occasionally chatting to while away the time.

Finishers medal: pretty much one of the hardest ones I have
ever received.

Finally we emerged back on to Baringo Road and the 22k aid station. This was also the 8k one we had encountered 14k's earlier, one and three quarter hours of up and down later. With still 8k's to go I grabbed some snacks and chocolate and carried on homewards. Another loop through the Sanatorium and then the undulating and rocky trail back to the finish line. The track was now basically retracing our steps from this morning, but buggered if I could remember much of it! We entered the picnic area on Lions Head Road for for the 2nd time that day and then as we entered the forest again I took the lead for the rolling track back to the Mount Macedon Road crossing. Even though I felt pretty stuffed at this point, I was still able to keep up a reasonable pace. It helped having 2 runners on my tail, kept me honest, and we all travelled in good time to the road crossing. By the time we got there though we were all puffing like steam trains! We were very relieved to have to stop as a car approached; the volunteer a bit slow in getting it to stop. He apologised, but we thanked him all the same!

We now had 5k's to go, and it was becoming a real battle to run anything that climbed beyond 5%! Even that was an issue. We passed the turn-off to Camels Hump, thankfully not having to climb it a second time, and headed on along the track. The sun was back out again, although it was still cool to cold under the canopy of trees. The general trend of the track had been mainly level since the 22k mark, now it started to climb again, another 4k's still from the finish. And it would continue to do so all the way in. Along this section the other 2 runners started to pull away as I spent more time recovering on the uphill sections. Eventually though, one of them decided to push on, and I caught up with the other who was really starting to struggle. I passed him just as we crossed the track where the 50k runners were running back out. We were close to the end.

Finishing and paying homage to my football team ,the crossed arms thingy!
(Photo credit: Yvonne Teo)

Passed more 50k runners still travelling back to the start/finish area and they all seemed cheerful enough (you'd have to be, knowing there was still 20k to go!). After what seemed like an interminable time, I spied the communications towers in the overflow car-park, less than 500 metres to go! There was no-one close behind me so I composed myself, summoned the energy for one last push and ran towards the finish line. As I was hammering towards it (downhill finish, thank you very much Brett Saxon, race director!), I got a low 5 and a gee up from a friend, Dan, on the way down. I saw the finish chute and headed towards it, amazed at the time it was showing. My expectations before the race were for a finish, and somewhere under 4 hours. 3:31 was never a realistic goal, but I arrived in that time and bloody happy with my race.

I was stuffed. Almost wandered out of the finish area without collecting my medal, then looked for an area to recover. Fiso and Chris were standing there, so I went over to congratulate Fiso (9th in 3:18:05), and commiserate with Chris, his ankle not looking good. Nicky and Jordan weren't around (I had said I would be in between 3:30 and 4 hours, and they had taken me literally), but they turned up about 10 minutes later astonished to see me already there. A quick lunch break, then get in the car for the 3 hour drive back to Leongatha; stiff, tired, but happy with the days efforts.

Being congratulated by Trails+ Race Director, Brett Saxon, after finishing. Funny thing is, I don't remember any of this other than him draping the medal around my neck! Note: Fiso calmly Facebooking in the background! It's what we do first thing post-race. (Photo credit: Yvonne Teo)

The wash-up

Definitely the hardest trail race I've done, but not impossible. The trick I find is to run anything remotely doable, and walk hard on the other sections. Walking still allows a recovery from running. It ends up being a serious of hard efforts, separated by walking recovery sections. Completely different to road racing where it is usually a constant pace for the whole race.
Whilst running trails is not particularly good for road running pace, there can be no doubt they make you tougher and stronger. As I write this final chapter, 6 days after finishing, I have already run another 38k's in training. An unprecedented amount when previously I probably wouldn't have been walking properly 3 days afterwards. Definitely getting stronger, and recovering faster. Now to get back on the road and work on the pace again.
And now I find myself 2 weeks out for the start of my marathon programme. The following races will lead me to October 12;

• Traralgon Half, June 15th,
• Run Melbourne Half. July 27th,
• Rapid Ascents 21k Race 3 Olinda, August 15th, and 
• Ross Marathon Festival Half (Tasmania) 7th September.

There will probably be some parkruns in between there and also a few longer trail runs to mix up the training, but for the most part this race schedule won't change.

Postscript

There was a distinct lack of Scottish running friend. Sadly Cheryl injured herself in a training run in the Dandenongs and although not serious, she decided that this race was not the type to test it out on! Sorely missed, but she'll be back next year.

Until next time...

Driver 8

33rd Puffing Billy Great Train Race.

Promo shot of Puffing Billy (All photos courtesy of The Friends of Puffing Billy, except where noted)

Setting the Scene

Climbing up to near the 10k mark of the race and the legs are fatiguing, lungs and heart are working overtime, and I'm desperately searching for the forth and final rail crossing. Somewhere behind me the train whistle peeps, but I have no idea how far back it is as the sound echoes through the hills. The road continues to climb (will it ever flatten out) and most of us are really struggling to maintain the pace we had started the climb with. The train whistle blows again, closer and more urgent. Just as I was about to admit defeat that I was not going to beat the train to the crossing, I round a corner and spy the signs ahead, 250 metres away. Whistle blows again, closer this time. Give us a break!

By now officials and supporters are jogging up the road towards us screaming encouragement, imploring us to dig deep and beat the train. Whistle blows again and I summon one last reserve of energy for the sprint towards the crossing. I'm followed by several other runners, all of us intent on beating that bloody train to the finish!

Exciting stuff, hey! Let's just calm down a bit and go back to were it all started.

In the Beginning (Ticket to Ride)

Being a 9:30 race start (very civilised) it was a leisurely breakfast and pack up at the place I was staying in Ferntree Gully, before heading up to the Metro train station to catch the train to Belgrave. Thanks to the modern marvel that is Victorian Public transport train ticketing, there was no romantic farewell on the platform with my wife; she wasn't allowed on there! Thank you very much, Myki! ...pricks...

Train arrived loaded with runners, a bit of pre-race banter, then we arrived at Belgrave and the race start. The usual pre-race chaos was in place, not helped by the threat of inclement weather, and the crowded streets and surrounds.

It was cool, bordering on cold, and I left it till the very last moment to strip down to race gear and drop off my gear bag for delivery to the finish line. Bumped into a couple of other Dandenong Trail Runners (Narelle and Belle), had a quick chat and then headed down to the start line. As I was waiting around, I met up with another runner who had a red coloured race bib, and we were both worried that as 1st wave seeded runners we had bitten off more than we could chew. Needn't have worried! Also bumped into Ash from TXR runners; he was buzzing and hyper, very ready to run!

Race Start (Leaving the Station)

Race start: cue the madness as everyone pushes for a good position.

We finally were marshalled around the corner to the start line; promo shots, short speeches, introduction to the train driver (to a chorus of boos!), sing (mumble) the national anthem, then we were ready to go. In keeping with the general train theme, the start was heralded not by a siren or start gun, but by a whistle (Casey Jones, indeed...). This was the first time I have witnessed real confusion at the start of a race. Starters whistle blows, and 4 or 5 runners bolt immediately; the rest of us hesitate ever so slightly before someone behind me yells "Just Go!", and off we all went.

First rail crossing, beautiful trestle bridge on Belgrave-Gembrook Road

Cue some carnage. Camera crew had positioned themselves 50 metres beyond the start line, and INSIDE the line of the runners. So, sprinting at the start (I was 5th row back), runners to my left suddenly veered right without warning. A runner beside suddenly tripped and went down rapidly. All I could do was vault him and hope that I didn't clip his elbow with my feet, and that the runners behind me didn't trample him. Hope he was alright.

The first kilometre was madness. Runners surging past, some in front already slowing up, and lots of jostling for position. We passed under the trestle bridge, the first point where the rail meets the road, then continued along the Belgrave-Gembrook road. Overnight rain made the road wet and a bit slippery in places, then it started to spit rain as we hauled ourselves up the first of the climbs. I was breathing hard early and worried that I had gone out too hard, resisting the urge to look at my GPS watch and see pace and/or heart rate. By the 3k mark I was running alongside similarly paced runners and was able to settle into a rhythm. The road undulated, so you went from hard work on the hills, to recovery down the other side.

First crossing on Selby-Aura Road where runners can get caught. No too many people looking upset. I'd be climbing the walls!

The Major Climb (I Think I Can)

Just as things are going well we turned into the gravel section of Selby-Aura Road at the 5k mark and started a 2k climb that would really test our reserves of energy. It was along this road I spotted Matty Morris of TXR runners, only about 30 metres ahead and toyed with the idea of trying to slowly catch up. Running beside a friendly face is always good policy. But I couldn't catch him. Towards the top, a spectator yelled out encouragement, "Just 250 metres to the top guys. Well done!". Actually it was a soul destroying 400+! Oh well, nice sentiments. Finally breasted the hill and I grabbed my first drink at the the second drink station. Previous drink station was best avoided.
Back out onto the bitumen, and by now we have crossed 3 level crossings. Periodically during that time a whistle blast would be heard, signalling the train, but you never knew exactly where it was, just that the driver was playing mind games with us! The hardest of the climbs behind us, we rejoined the Belgrave-Gembrook road for the final climb to Emerald and the all-important 4th level crossing. Beat the train through here, and you have a great chance of beating it to the finish. Which leads me back to the start of this story....

The Real Race

With 75 metres to the crossing, train blowing his whistle behind me (and by now I can hear the steam coming from the pistons), I put my head down and charged forward. Several runners came with me and we crossed the railway line amidst a number of officials looking like they were about to close the barrier, and a large group of spectators yelling encouragement. Adrenalin and energy spent, I turned right into Emerald station trying hard to ignore the fact that I was cooked. Past another aid station, and some people stopped or walking, looking the worse for wear, and then back on to Heroes Road (how ironic!) for the final 'jelly legs' 3k downhill finish.

Just before the descent, a vision of purple appeared off my left shoulder; Narelle Lagergren, one tough runner, who was pushing to beat the train. Upon seeing me she commenced a rev-up/pep talk/motivational speech reminiscent of my old rugby coach! Although he had a gut, smoked roll-ups, and carried his greyhounds in the back of his ute, shadowing us for those insane 15k pre-season runs we used to do in Brisbane summer heat. And he never wore purple. Okay, not sure where that analogy was going....

Anyway, we started the descent. Narelle yelling behind her that if we were close at the finish, we should cross together. Sounded good in theory! I tucked in behind her and we let the decline do the work for us. By now I was no longer recovering on the downhills. I was working as hard as I had at any time during the race. The sound of the train was almost constant now as the driver gave it his all. We pushed on, all runners around us had no thought other than putting in to beat the sod. I was still behind Narelle, but struggling to stay close enough and thought I was going to lose her altogether.

The road levelled out and we steered right on to as gravel track for the last 2k's to the finish. Narelle suddenly stopped off the track to tie up a shoelace (double knots, mate) and I ploughed on knowing she would catch up. The path met back up with the railway and by now the train was right behind us. I didn't need to look, I just knew by the sound and the shouts of the passengers. Narelle caught and passed me, and I caught my first sight of the train for the whole race. I was absolutely spent, and many others runners were now streaming past in a last ditch effort to beat it.

Good to see workplace health and safety haven't cottoned on to this! Passengers would hang out of the side of the train yelling encouragement to the runners (At least I think that was what they were yelling!).

The Finish (Arrive at the Station)

I was close, but how close to the finish? I wouldn't look at my watch; I didn't want to know. But, people were telling us we only had several hundred metres to go (which could be anywhere between 200 and 500!), and I just needed to put in a maximal effort and hope that it was enough. The train had got in front of me, then the final nail in the coffin was where we hit the bottom end of Emerald Lake. In previous years the route turned left and there was a 200 metre uphill finish. Recent rain meant that track was washed out, so instead we headed to the right for another 400 metre section. And that is where I finally knew that I was beaten! Soooo close.

I pushed on, a good time was still in the offering, and climbed the final 100 metres to the finish line. The finish straight was lined with spectators, all cheering and clapping, it was a great way to finish. Stopped the watch and spotted Narelle. She came up and we high 10'ed (none of that 5 bullshit!) and hugged each other on a job well done. Neither of us had beaten the train, but we'd run significant personal bests in doing so.

Not close enough to finish with Narelle, but still managed to get in the selfie! (photo credit: Narelle Lagergren)

The finish was just as chaotic as the start. Runners everywhere, many needing medical attention (it was that sort of race), and being a crowded finish line it was impossible to see any of my friends. Nevertheless, still managed to bump into Josie (she'd threatened to run me down, but didn't quite) as we queued for Gatorade and drink bottles.

Race finish at Emerald Lake. Sun was out, finally.

The Wash-Up

Now started the process of finding my wife and son who had been up at Emerald Lake since before 9:30! After bumping in to a few other friends, I finally checked my watch to see the time; 1:01:38 on the watch (1:01:35 officially) for a km pace of 4:36. Very happy with that.
So, what do I take away from Sundays race?

• Despite not doing too much speed work over the last couple of months, I haven't lost too much at all. 
• The hill work that I have substituted has more than compensated for the lack of speed work. And that has probably been a good thing in that it has boosted my aerobic capacity, and not stressed the legs like flat hard runs can do. 
• My strength has increased also due to the hill work. Whilst I slowed down on the hills, I ran a consistent pace up them (particularly Selby-Aura, the 2k climb).
• My pacing was spot on (it helped knowing the elevation profile), and consistent throughout.
• Current training regime is working, no need to shake it up just yet.

A great day, and a great race. Definitely back to do it again next year, and this time I will book Nicky and Jordan on the train. Added incentive to beat it! 

Next week: Macedon 30 (aka The Dirty 30!).

Until next time...

Spicks & Specks

Not too much to report this time, in between races and starting to ramp up training for Melbourne Marathon. Only a cool 6 months away....
So, just a few random thoughts and observations to tide me over until the next major post.

Holiday Running

Always a tricky one where one partner is a runner, and the other one clearly isn't. Even harder when holidays are usually in the camper trailer, no 5 star resort for this tight-arse bastard! Trying to extricate body out of sleeping bag, get changed into running gear, find GPS watch in the dark etc etc, without waking up the other persons in your tent, is one of life's little pleasures. Then do the run, coming back sweaty, red-faced, and staring avariciously at any food on offer, doesn't go down well. Thankfully my partner (the lovely Nicky) has within the last 18 months taken up running. So now, we both pack shoes, clothes and GPS watch, and arrange to either run at separate times, or start together knowing that I will run longer to get back to camp at roughly the same time. All we do is tell #1 son that we will be gone when he surfaces in the morning. Which is fine, until he forgets....

Non Trainers

We all know that person. Rarely (or doesn't) train, turns up to a race, and records a superb time. Makes us all sick (well those of us who have to train!). Me? I'm a grafter; set a plan, work prodigiously towards my goal and hope that all planets are aligned on race day. Had a friend (past tense intended!) who on a 3 week easy prep could turn up and easily trot out a 1:36 half marathon. Bastard! No giving up chocolate, booze, recreational drugs, and sex, he would happily do this year after year. I once asked him what would happen if he trained seriously. Answer: bored witless. 

Which brings me to son. 2 years ago he announced that he wanted to run in the junior races at my club in Launceston. Distances were 1.5 to 2k, and handicapped, giving all kids a chance of a win, and the prizes that went with it. He did really well, eventually winning a race with a superb surge at the finish. Having fulfilled his goal he then lost interest; a couple of less than satisfactory 5k parkruns later he stopped altogether. Roll forward a year, having not trained at all during that period, and he was persuaded to run at Berwick Springs parkrun one Saturday in early April. I was marshalling, and being a 2 loop course, I received a complaint twice as he passed me (Son: "You didn't tell me it was TWO loops!", Dad: "You clearly didn't listen to the race briefing!"). Get home, check results and I see he has done a 25:44. Pretty good I thought, possibly close to a PB, but seeing as it was his first run there it just listed him as a first timer. Upon checking his parkrun history I find he has smashed his PB by over a minute. And wasn't he a smug prat....

Trail Running

When I moved to Victoria in June 2013, I had in mind to try and get to a few trail runs. Something different, off road is completely different racing to the bitumen stuff. First attempt was to run in August on a 21k long course race at the back of Mt. Dandenong. Friday night before I got sick, and suffered only my 2nd DNS in 20+ years of racing. As noted before, I have since run Two Bays (28k) and Roller Coaster (21.5k) runs, 2 of the most wonderfully organised events, road or trail, that you can ever do. I have just recently signed up for another in mid May called the Macedon 30, reputed to be the toughest 30k event around. Suffice to say I am now hooked! Where does this leave my marathon preparation? At some point I need to start racing on the road again to gauge my pace, but training and running trails has certainly strengthened and toughened me up. And as a way of creating interest in running, if you have grown a bit blasé about pounding the pavement, give it a try.

First pair of Trail shoes. Salomon S-Lab XT6, and very nice indeed.

Up and Coming Races

Busy couple of weekends coming up. Sunday May 4th is Puffing Billy. For the uninitiated, a 13k run in The Dandenongs, Victoria with the object to beat a steam train that is racing against you. There are two trains, fast and not so fast! To beat the fast I would need to run around 55 minutes, quite probably out of the question. But the second gets in a bit after the hour mark, and that is definitely achievable for me. The course itself has an undulating elevation profile, the last 3k's distinctly downhill to the finish. And this year an extra section has been added due to some track damage after recent rain. It will make for some interesting racing!
The Sunday afterwards, May 11th, will be the 'A-List' race for me, Macedon 30. Course profile is slightly intimidating, to say the least. But I think I have found my niche on the trails. And am confident of that statement after running a 21k trail (790 metre elevation gain) with Dandenong Trail Runners on Friday 25th April, only to back up at Albert parkrun the following day and still run a respectable time! No way could I have done that even a year ago.

Until next time....

Rollercoaster

Morning mist shrouds the lights of the start line at Skyhigh. (Photo credit: Erwin Jansen, Dandyrunner.com)

I'm at the highest point of the run, my heart rate is starting to rise and the nerves are on edge. But wait, it's not the middle of the race, we haven't even started yet! I am standing at the start line on a cool and foggy Saturday morning in late March. The race has been held up for a few minutes whilst the organisers wait for the light to improve, and I am contemplating what I am about to attempt. One of my friends says something to me which I don't catch. Shit, hope it wasn't something important!

Because of the delay we had plenty of time to chat before the start. I wasn't as nervous as I'd expected to be. Probably because I was not rating myself to do anything other that just get through. Having run this as a brisk (but not really fast) training run 6 weeks previously, I thought that a 2:30ish finish would be an ideal time to aim for. Mentally I was prepared, physically I was sure I was underdone; meaning a smart and tactical race was the plan.

Chris and I before the start; fresh, full of energy and blissfully unaware of how much pain we were going to put ourselves through. (Photo credit: Cheryl Martin)

I was still chatting with my friends Chris and Cheryl, when "3,2,1....", we were off. The start line is on grass, flat, soft, and welcoming. It is just beyond this point that the race becomes like no other.

Rollercoaster Run in the Mt. Dandenongs is a very different kind of race. It starts at it's highest point, then descends over the next 5 kilometres from 620 metres to 295, a cool 325 metres that includes sections of -20% gradient. Run down here too hard and your legs are cooked for the nasty surprise that awaits you at the 5.5k mark, Dodds Track. This is legendary in Mt. Dandenong running folklore. It rises 200 metres in just under 1.5k's only to descend another 270 metres over the next 4.2 kilometres. Are we getting the hint as to why this run is called Rollercoaster? This is only the first 11.5 kilometres, still another 10 to go to return to our start point.

Chez and I barrelling down Kyeema Track towards Zig Zag.

We started bunched up, down a descent that was tricky with so many runners. Cheryl found a path through the pack, whilst Chris and I resorted to going round the outside of some runners; a dangerous ploy in dim light conditions. In no time at all we turned a sharp left on to Kyeema Track, and finally the congestion eased. I eased into a nice pace and found myself alongside Cheryl as we started the trip down the side of the mountain. The first 4k's of the descent can be where a lot of runners do damage. You have lots of energy, feeling good and hustling downhill at a fast rate of knots. Several sections of track (appropriately called Zig Zag) twist and turn at the bottom of several steep sections. The ability to run fast AND stay on the track is a required skill here, or just slow down!

Chris just behind us on Kyeema Track.

At one point I got ahead of Cheryl and found myself just striding very easily. My aim was to run as fast as possible on the downhill (within reasonable safety) and the flat parts. I must add 'relatively' flat parts, because buggered if I can remember much flat at all, bar the start/finish area! At the bottom of Zig Zag track Cheryl caught up with me and we ran past Doongalla aid station together. We knew we were approaching Doongalla, the shouts and calls of the volunteers (henceforth called vollies) as runners came by could be heard nearly a kilometre away. Dressed as clowns (the general theme of this run), they were a bit scary if you disobeyed them, as somebody was to find out later on!
Just beyond Doongalla, the real race started. As mentioned before, Dodds Track presented itself as the first major climb, and the first major decision as to whether to run or walk. I elected to walk major sections, and was thoroughly vindicated later on when I was able to pass runners on the final sections. The climb over Dodds (7 kilometre mark) was the slowest split for the entire race for me. 10 minutes and 5 seconds of steadily increasing gradient, with all bar one person in front of me walking it.

3D representation of the climb up Dodds Track from Doongalla Road to Basin-Olinda Road crossing. (Courtesy of Velowviewer.com)

 The stats for Dodds are fairly compelling.

• Distance - 1 kilometre
• Elevation gain - 147 metres
• Average grade - 14.5%
• Maximum grade - 31%
• Rated as a category 4 climb (1 being the absolute hardest)

At the bottom I had said goodbye to Cheryl. Well, actually, I was just struggling for breath and she ran on whilst I walked to recover! On the way up I passed as man wearing a schoolgirls uniform! Was I hallucinating? Thankfully it was a friend, Richard, raising money for Oxfam Trailwalker.
Once I reached the peak I started a slow jog to get the tightness out of the muscles, then slowly picked up the pace. I was feeling okay, if a little lacking in energy here, and breathing pretty hard as well. Thankfully, I noticed, so was everyone else.
The run through here was really pretty, tall stands of eucalypts were still shrouded in the early morning mist, and the smell of the forest floor was rich and strong. I was really enjoying this section until we crossed the Basin-Olinda Road again to enter the Banksia Track. Lovely track, but with a really nasty surprise of a hill right at the 9.5k mark of the race!

Passed a photographer (think I looked okay!) and we continued down towards The Basin in Boronia.

Cheryl, Christian, myself, Chris and Richard, enroute to The Basin. (Photo credit: Erwin Jansen, Danndyrunner.com)

Narelle and Kai also enroute to The Basin, but this was loop 1 of 2 past here. (Photo credit: Erwin Jansen Dandyrunner.com)

By now the field was really spread out and it was easier to concentrate on just running your own pace. I tried to keep a few runners ahead of me in view so that I could measure my own progress through the bush, and it helped. Beyond The Basin we turned back east and run beside Doongalla Road before crossing it, heading off on another track before rejoining Doongalla Road for the final section to the aid station.
Running along the road here I started to catch up with another person in a Two Bays singlet (I was wearing a Two Bays shirt), and he had a white peaked cap on. It was only later that I realised that I had nearly caught up with Christian Day, a runner who I would have suggested should be much further ahead of me. If I had realised at the time, I would have freaked!
The aid station was full of clowns, literally. Just the aid station vollies dressed up and cheering us on as always! It was here that I had a minor technical issue. Leading up I had felt a little fatigued and decided to have a carbohydrate gel for energy. Hands slippery, I couldn't rip the top off, so resorted to putting it between my teeth and trying that. No go. Runners were streaming past me. No panic. Looked pathetically towards one of the male vollies for assistance and got a "No way am I @&%$*& putting that in my mouth after you!". Fine, no problems... Female vollie; "Give it here" and she proceeded to wash with water, wipe down and also have a crack at it in between her teeth. No luck also. Meanwhile I have discovered the assorted boxes of different flavoured Shotz gels on the table and am dithering over which flavour to take; for all the world like a shopper at the Vic Markets who can't chose between the Apple Tea Cake or the box of Chocolate Brownies! Finally someone, don't know who said "got it", thrust the opened gel back into my hand before I downed it, shoved spare gel into pocket on the fuel belt, and I was off. Another bloody photographer; look sharp!
It was here that it paid not to piss off the clowns! There is a famous line in the movie Apocalypse Now that states, "Never get out of the boat", in reference to the trip up the river into enemy territory. The same applies at Roller Coaster Run, "Never get off the course"! Twas here my friend Cheryl, head down, striding along, didn't see the turn through the gate towards Stables Track. The following photo is worth a thousand words....

Don't piss off the clowns, clowns bark at wayward runners! (Photo credit: Christiaan Williams)

By now some of the 43k runners, who started several minutes behind us are actually catching us. As amazing as that seemed, it spurred me on to keep going. Beyond here, Stable Track and later Bills and Edgar Track, the path was a little rougher. Rocks mainly, loose or stuck in the ground like crazy cobblestones. Came down hard on my heel a couple of times, but rolled along trying to ignore the pending fatigue and general lack of energy from such a draining run.

By now I was running alongside (or within easy distance) of about 4 runners. They would push along the relative flat sections, fly down the hills, but I would catch them on the next hill. We spent the next 3 k's doing that until the 'How Good Is This' aid stop along Singleton.

It was here (15/16k mark, can't quite recall) the track started it's inevitable rise back up to Skyhigh. We are running along a track that, at the 17 k mark, is about 290 metres of elevation. By the 21.5k mark we will have climbed to 620 metres. Doesn't sound much, until you realise we had already gained 750 metres in elevation up to this point. The course is tough, make no bones about it. As I started the climb the early elevation was just enough to make me work really hard, but go very slow. Eventually I was reduced to a walk. There was no embarrassment, anyone else nearby was doing the same. Between the 17.6k mark and the 20k mark I reckon I walked all bar 400 metres, and that run was broken up into 3 parts. I caught up with a 43k runner and we had a chat as we both walked up Singleton Terrace. We mainly talked about trail runs, trail runners and our expectations of time on this course. I later found out he missed his goal time considerably, probably underestimated the toughness of the course. For the record he was #552 Andy Turner, and a big shout out to him, the chat helped me considerably through a very dark period.

Getting to the top at Doongalla was a relief. Sharp turn right, pass the final aid station complete with carnival fair music blasting from the car parked nearby, and on to the final inglorious bastard section called Trig Track. This is a single path, very technical section. Trees to go around, roots and rocks to jump over (ouch, my quads) and then a final climb that I think we all forgot about. It was the only time of the day where I stopped dead, hunched over sucking in the big ones. People were slumped against trees, hunched over, generally wasted with the effort. It looked like a seen from a disaster movie. At the top of this climb the track opened up again, with more climbing until we rejoined the Kyeema Track, and the last surge for home.

The finish line in the late afternoon light, the day before. A sight we were glad to see at the end of this race.

Surge for home lasted about 300 metres before we turned left to climb directly up the hill to Skyhigh. Once again I walked, conserving what little energy I had left for the final run across the finish line. As I turned into the road towards the finish line (200 metres tops) I peeked behind me, another runner coming up, bugger, gunna have to haul arse! I mustered all the energy I had and ran as hard as I could. As I got to within 150 metres I saw Andy Turner heading back down for his second loop having run up to the start//finish line. Seeing him head down (thanks for the hoy, too!) I had nothing but immense respect for him and all the other 43k runners. They had just done what I had, and were going out again. Maybe mad, maybe insane, but I have the utmost respect for them, all the same.

Because I hadn't used the race timer on my watch I had no idea what time I had been running. I was then very amazed to see the time of 2:20 on the race clock as crossed the line. Name called as I crossed the finish line, I was exhausted and thought for a second my legs were going to give way. Thankfully they didn't. Some kind soul draped the finishing medal over my neck and I went off in search of liquid and food.

Christian (354) and myself (245) with the all important finishers medal. (Photo credit: Cheryl Martin)

Cheryl at brunch with THE medal. (Photo credit: Cheryl Martin)

The first person I saw once I recovered sufficiently was Cheryl. She saw me and huge smile lit up her face, as I'm sure there was a huge smile on mine. We'd both had stellar races, and couldn't believe how well we'd done. She'd run 2:12 and finished 4th, only a minute behind the third placed women. I'd finished in 37th place and beaten my goal time by 10 minutes. Also there was Christian, having come in at 2:16, drawing away from me after Doongalla, and beating his previous result on this course from 2013.

21.5k results.

43k results, 2 loop legends.

3D graphic of a single loop of Roller Coaster Run. The reason why my legs refused to work for a week, and I ended up walking like John Wayne. The colours are very appropriate; blood red for the uphill, black and blue for the downhill. (Image courtesy of veloviewer.) For a nifty interactive experience, look at the profile here, http://veloviewer.com/route/2147483985

You'd be forgiven, reading this report, that I would never do this again. And there were times during the race that I would doubt my ability to complete such a hard race. But sitting here, a week afterwards, and I can't wait to have another crack next year. Confidence is high that I can tackle Melbourne again, knowing that I have that ability to tough out a hard race.

Until next time...

The Kids Are Alright

Race Report - Kilcunda Run for the Kids, 21.1k

The kids are alright, monies raised from this race go to helping kids in need on the Bass Coast in Victoria. But this runner is not alright. Having started out on Saturday with a goal of getting close to my PB (Currently 1:39:51), I was bitterly disappointed to fall well short. It was bound to happen at some stage; things can't always be hunky dory, and I just have to deal with it as best I can.

This was going to be my first road race over the 21k distance, and a good indication of where I was at in relation to Melbourne. I was not expecting (nor chasing) a PB; partly because I knew I was in early training, and partly because I had an interrupted training programme for Two Bays, and now Rollercoaster. But I did expect to get close to 1:40, having run a 1:44 in a time trial (on my own) 3 weeks ago. the final time of 1:52 was, well, underwhelming to say the least!

Aerial view of rail bridge and trail. The start/finish line was adjacent to the car park, photo - top right.

It had all started out just fine. As a family we had decided to all go and run this event, Nicky doing the 10k (her first), Jordan doing the 3k, and myself running the 21.1k. Being a local race I felt we should support it as there are not too many races in South Gippsland. Being a low key event the information for it was occasionally lacking, or, in the start time department, completely incorrect. There were no listed start times on the web page or the entry website, and the only times I saw were in a copy of a R4YL running mag that listed all the races as starting at separate times. As we were eating breakfast on the morning, I decided to check one last time and was startled to find out that my race was listed as starting at 8, not 8:30 as I had previously read. Panic ensued as I swept everyone up and shepherded them out of the door. I hate being late and unprepared for races. (As it turned out, the race did in fact start at 8:30!)

The race started well. We had a narrow track to run on (the Kilcunda to Wonthaggi Rail Trail for the most part), and within a kilometre we had a narrow (read 1 metre wide) bridge that on the return trip had runners in both directions doing fairy steps and turning sideways! The first 4.5 k's were over an out-and-back section north of the start/finish line that included a few small hills. I felt good, was moving at what I thought was a reasonable pace, but was conscious of the heat and humidity. As I normally do in races these days I refrain from constantly checking my GPS watch and try and run on 'feel'. At one point I did have a quick peak and saw I was running around 4:35 pace, too quick I thought. Later, when I checked the GPS plot it revealed I had gone through the 5k mark in 22:50, too fast for me attempting a 1:40 half!

Rail bridge just outside of Kilcunda on the way to Wonthaggi.

At about the 8k mark I could sense that I was working hard to maintain pace so backed it off a bit. The heat (and the sun on the exposed trail) was a bit of an issue and I was concerned that I was starting to feel less than stellar. I also realised that I was starting to take a peek at the watch at regular intervals, a sure sign I was concerned about something. Soon after my right hamstring started to get that feeling of imminent cramp, and I knew my day was stuffed.

At this point I am always left with the question; DNF, or battle on and finish regardless. Seeing as I have a pretty testing 21k trail run in a fortnight the obvious decision would be to DNF, but as I was nearing the turnaround point I soldiered on thinking, unless I did suddenly cramp badly, I would benefit from the mental aspect. Brain can do some funny things mid race! This section of the trail was not particularly inspiring, in fact it rolled on relentlessly and as yet another runner passed me (and gave me words of encouragement; gee I must have looked like shit, but thanks all the same, it helped), I grew more and more despondent. Only the sight of the finish line from a kilometre out helped me to pick it up and bring it home.

Crossed the finish line, took the timing transponder off my ankle and tried not to hurl it at the volunteer (not his fault), went in search of liquid refreshment and waited for Nicky to catch up. She, at least, had a good run. Her first 10k, under an hour (her goal) and obviously a PB. Well done, at least one of us had a good day. I tried not to sound uncharitable, and I wasn't. My crap day should not undermine anyone else's day. Then she informed me that Jordan had run 2nd in his 3k run. Of course neither of us were there to witness this, my son never lets truth get in the way of a good story, but because he was happy, and had enjoyed himself, we decided that was fine by us.

So.... where does that leave me and Melbourne Marathon? With the benefit of hindsight, I have looked back and identified the following;

• It was hot and humid. A quick check on weatherzone revealed that the humidity was hovering around 60% at the start and was 22 degrees. Within 20 minutes it had risen by 4 degrees. That wouldn't have helped, although it wasn't a 12 minute factor.
• I started too quickly. Once again I haven't learnt the lesson of Melbourne last year. This is the most disappointing, as it is a variable that I can control. At the 5k mark I was about 30 metres behind the woman who eventually came 2nd (in 1:35), that speaks volumes....
• I was feeling flat on the Wednesday before. I skipped a run in order to rest but the damage may already have been done. I might have been guilty of over-training, as I was keeping Rollercoaster in mind. Which brings me to the last item,
• 2 races in 2 weeks. This is not an issue in so much that I can cope with it. More so, which one was the 'A' race, and which one was the 'just run and finish' race? I am guilty of not having a clear and identifiable racing programme, which has at it's core a training programme that underpins it. Lesson learnt there!

Anyway, I may have a blinder of a run at Rollercoaster and chalk this one up as just a crap race, to be forgotten about. (Would be if I didn't record it in this blog!)

Thank you for reading. Until next time...

Subject to Change

Training so far....
So, I was supposed to run Warburton half the weekend of the 23rd. Didn't happen as (previously noted) I have run Two Bays Trail Race and am in the middle of training for Rollercoaster in late March. The change in training to longer runs with plenty of hills, meant that following my current training plan was almost impossible.

Such a pity to wake up on that Sunday morning, find a beautiful blue sky, cool temperatures, and little to no wind. Sigh..... To make up for the potential disappointment, I changed my 17k long run to incorporate a 21.1k time trial. It was as much to make up for a lost race, as to evaluate how the training plan stacked up.

A couple of things didn't go my way. Firstly I started later than I had hoped, and it was starting to get a bit warm towards the end. Secondly I suffered a cramp in my right hamstring on the return journey, something that has only really happened since I have started ramping up training for the marathon last year. Besides that, I had a fairly good run and was able to keep a consistent pace throughout.

The verdict? Plan works well for me. I will use in the lead up to Traralgon half in mid June.

Melbourne Marathon
Entries opened for the marathon on last Monday, fully 4 months before they have in previous years! Why? Maybe it is an attempt to get as many entrants as possible. I don't mind big numbers, just hope that the organisers cope with the large numbers that this race attracts.

One major change this year is that all races do not finish on the hallowed turf of the MCG, but on a path that comes of Brunton Avenue. To say this has been a little controversial is like saying that chocolate is a little addictive. Debate has raged in a few online forums about the pros and cons of such a move. Firstly it has been brought on the organisers by the MCC due to preparations for the Cricket World Cup in 2015. Clearly they don’t want us spotty runners trampling the newly laid turf, despite the best efforts of organisers. Initially I was disappointed, but soon realised there are bigger issues at stake for me as a runner.

Although having just found out that we won’t be finishing next to the statue of Shane Warne, I feel this could be a deal breaker!

Shane Warne: A man who should leave his spinning and texting fingers to science.

Rollercoaster

As mentioned above I am training for Rollercoaster, a 21.5k trail race in the Dandenong’s, east of Melbourne. Trail running is vastly different to road running, as I have found out racing at Two Bays and training on a couple of trails. Rather than hitting a pace and cadence, and holding it for the entire race, trail running requires constant changes of pace, cadence and alternately stresses the cardio system, then gives it a massive rest on the downhills.

Actually, I quite enjoy the change that trail running gives; although this race, with an elevation gain of nearly 1000 metres over the length of the course is challenging, to say the least! Trying to find training routes around my area that match this course has been difficult. To date I have located a run that gives me an elevation gain of 100m in 1.2km, a gradient of roughly 9%. Fine, you say, but the entire 21.5k race is nearly 10%. Help.....

And just as important is the downhill, there is plenty of seriously long and punishing descents to test the body. If I'm walking upright 2 days after, I haven’t really had a go!

3D view of Rollercoaster run showing the elevation and gradient.
The race starts and finishes at the top left (highest point).
(image courtesy of Veloviewer)

Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now
That is a line from a song from one of my favourite bands of the eighties, The Smiths. From the pen of one Stephen Patrick Morrissey comes the following lines;

I was looking for a job, and then I found a job,
and heaven knows I'm miserable now....

Yes, a strange and melancholy tune from a band often considered miserable sods. It leads me, though, into the topic of work. I have finally found a job working in Leongatha as a computer technician, and as such it has secured our stay in Victoria for another year and a half, at least. It was touch and go for a bit there, some very long and detailed discussions about me returning to Tasmania early, just to go back to the job that is currently held for me. As to the future beyond that, who knows, and given that this time last year we never expected that we would be living anywhere other than Tassie, no guarantees can be given.

And no, I'm not miserable, quite happy in fact! 
Caveat: it is a school and a Catholic one! Somehow I have slipped through the cracks :)

Until next time....

Running Up That Hill (part 2)

A quick recap of part 1;

I've just ascended Arthurs Seat, I'm feeling like I've run 5k (not 3), I have 25k's to go, and there are sunglasses perched on top of my head!

Having got the worst of the climb behind, it was now time to concentrate on working my way into the race. At this point the track starts to slowly descend on the back of Arthurs Seat, and the pace goes from a shuffle, to a good fast jog. There are lots of runners in front and behind. Twisting through the forest we looked like a demented conga line, or a fast moving queue for the toilets at a Polynesian wedding!

A quick inventory of the body (legs fine, breathing measured and heart rate still in the ‘sensible’ zone), I started to move along and think about the rest of the race. I was also wondering where my teammates were, and how they were all going

Along the single track we were moving well, with no issues apart from the occasional runner trying to squeeze their way past. I was content to just run at the pace of the people in front, it felt somewhat slower than I would be usually running at this point in a race, but I was fine with that. At about the 5k mark we left the single track and turned onto a steeply declining gravel road. After nearly coming a cropper on the loose surface I decided (along with most other runners) to chance running on the side in the newly slashed grass (twisted ankle from grass clumps, or busted face from loose gravel; devils choice really!)

Periodically along the path were little signs placed by the organisers saying things like ‘enjoy the view’ as we passed sections where we could see down to Sorrento. At this point I suddenly realised that I still had sunglasses perched on the top of my head; no worries, it was cloudy!

At the 7k mark we emerged from the bush tracks to a section along the roads which most other runners around me seemed to bitch about. Didn’t worry me, been a road runner for years. I just put my head down and got into a nice zone, knowing that very soon we would be back in the bush. 5k later we did finally head back into the bush, but not before we encountered the first of the two aid stations on Browns Road, and an unscheduled stop to brush shoes down to prevent the spread of phytophthora. The aid stations are legendary on the Two Bays race. Staffed by very (and I mean VERY) enthusiastic volunteers, they clap and cheer everybody as they pass through the station and call out your name. It is very uplifting, and many of us made a point of acknowledging their support on the way through.

Volunteers at Browns Road, this years winners in the battle of the aid stations!

The unscheduled stop at the brush down point occurred because there were too many runners arriving at the one time for the single brush! The previously mentioned fast moving toilet queue suddenly stopped, and many bemused runners stood around in an orderly line waiting to go through. I was not too fussed, it was good to stop and have a drink before heading off again. (Next year, organisers have advised that there will be multiple wash down stations here as runners behind me had to wait up to 15 minutes to clear this obstruction!)

Jonathan leading the train towards Browns Road. The keen eyed will spy a pair of orange runners following close behind Jonathan. Cheryl, drafting closely (experienced runner!)

The 12k mark was a point at which I had decided that if I was feeling fine to try and push the pace a little bit. From here to the 16k mark the elevation profile dipped like a cereal bowl, 16k being the lip on the other side at the same height. From the 16k mark it was downhill (as a trend) until the finish! Up the front for Wonder Winnies David was powering on in an effort to beat last year’s time, Ed, Jonathan and Cheryl were close enough together to throw a blanket over them, Josie was also close to them, Brian was trailing somewhere behind me and Sam and Michelle were close together bringing up the rear. By all reports we were all having good races, despite the lack of preparation by most of the team.

Kilometres 12 to 16 passed without any incident and I stopped briefly at the 16k marker to have a carbohydrate gel. Upon rejoining the race I caught up with a group of about 7 runners (all male), and we grouped together in a line and ran for about 2k’s. One by one runners would peel of the front and let the rest of us through, until there were only 3, then for the last 2k’s it was just one guy in front of me. It was during this section heading down to the Boneo Road aid station that I had the first of 2 ‘squeaky bum’ incidents! This section had a number of boardwalks, but some were very old. At one point, sick of running down the steps in a dainty manner that I am not usually accustomed to, I decided to leap ala superman down to the board below. A loud crack came from the board, and I had a sudden image of my foot smashing through it, breaking ankle, or shin, or dislocating a hip! The runner in front must have nearly shit himself, but asked if I was alright. Heart rate went through the roof and I made a pact with myself not to be so reckless for the rest of the race.

Just approaching Boneo Road aid station.

Made it into Boneo Road aid station okay, but needed to refuel the body as I could feel some fatigue creeping in. Grabbed the first cup of liquid I saw, only to down it in one go and realise it was Coke Cola! So much for the non-added sugar diet! It did the trick; didn’t need any gels for the rest of the race. Boneo Road is at about the 22k mark; just on 6k’s left to run and most of it downhill. Another quick inventory of the body; breathing okay, legs fatigued but in good shape, and sunglasses still perched on top of my head! Feeling refreshed, I started running again as soon as I could. 3 runners passed me within the first kilometre of the aid station, but no more would for the rest of the race! Very soon I was being followed closely by another runner, and the second near miss happened. This time it was the other runner who stood on a tree root as we were pacing fairly quickly on a downhill section. To keep his balance and not fall over, he swung his arm out in a large loop that resulted in me feeling the air swish past as he did. If he’d collected the back of my neck, I reckon the two of us would have gone down in a screaming heap. He survived, and we continued on.

By now I was aware that I was picking up lots of runners and passing them. I wasn’t going any faster than earlier, in fact I had dropped my pace back by about 10 seconds a kilometre as my quads were now feeling a bit tender. The main reason seemed to be that a lot of people had gone out too hard, too early and were now paying the price. Whether it was the climb up Arthurs, or just too fast to the 12 or 16k marks, I don’t know. But it gave me even greater confidence that I was running well, and I used each successive runner as a means to drive myself harder for the finish line.

Before we got there though, there was one final injustice. A set of steps just after a gully crossing that was the final nail into the coffin of our shattered legs. I stopped and walked, but it was too much for the guy following me. He could barely lift his leg to walk each step. I got to the top and set off for the final 2k’s to the finish line.

The Team: Bushrangers Bay section and nearing the end.

By now I could hear the surf crashing on the rocks of the shoreline we were following, and I could hear the PA system at the finish line. Over a sandy section, down a small gravel road and we rounded a bend to climb (really?) a section of the Cape Schanck lighthouse car park to the finish line. I was exhausted, but really happy with my effort. I had finished in 2:47, under my projected time of 2:50, but missing the ultimate time of 2:43. I wasn’t the least bit worried, finishing this race in the manner I did, made up for the disappointment that I felt at the Melbourne Marathon last year.

I crossed the line, shook hands with the Race Director and scored a spot prize for having pimped my board shorts with team name, pithy sayings etc., then went in search of the teammates who had finished in front of me to swap race stories and get photos. And the sunglasses were still on top of my head! (Sun came out later that morning...)

Brian, Cheryl, David, Jonathan, Ed, Michelle, Sam and myself posing triumphantly in front of the Two Bays car.

Lachlan (non team member), Jonathan, David, Ed, Cheryl and Josie after finishing.

The general feeling was that we had all had great races, had worked out where to cut time for next year’s race, and were planning already for running Rollercoaster, a 21k race with an even more insane elevation profile!

We waited for all our team to arrive before heading back to the resort to shower, eat, drink, and swap war stories! 

One for each member of the team? A well earned haul...

Footnote: Passing the first aid tent I couldn't help but have a quick look inside. It resembled a scene from a war movie; bodies busted up in all manner of places. Suddenly realised how dangerous it would have been to trip and fall on the track.

For the record: All the finishing times for team Wonder Winnies.

Postscript: And in a photo finish, Team Wonder Winnies took out first place in the Mixed 28k teams event by the narrowest of margins. 49 seconds separated our best 4 runners from the team in second place (the first 4 must include at least one of either gender). This time included the time it took us to cross the line! Next year we are all wearing board shorts and Hawaiian shirts to get a preferred start position.