Weather With You

The Forecast is Not Good

Many years ago, when faced with a career change, I investigated working for the Bureau of Meteorology. I've always been fascinated by weather, studying charts, watching with interest as the summer storms would roll into Brisbane with monotonous regularity etc. My dream soon bit the dust when I realised the entrance requirements for study. You might be wondering what this has to do with a running blog; be patient, I will get there.

Apart from the vaguely European look,
this was the foggy scene that greeted us at the top of
Mt. Dandenong.

Clouds Gathering

A while ago, a few of us were discussing our plans for marathon training, and Peter Mitchell, our Dandenongs Trail Runners head honcho, advised that he knew some good testing runs that were just perfect for this. 16 weeks out from Melbourne and he organised a 25k trail run that included a 5 and a half kilometre climb after the first kilometre! The gradient average of 6% meant it was going to be runnable all the way to the top. To make sure that the benefits of the run were maximised, the run was advertised as being "ideal for those who want to run a 3:00 to 3:30 for the MM". I read it twice before accepting the event invite. Long time readers of this blog will be well aware of my travails at last years Melbourne Marathon (in fact, the very reason this blog exists is to document my return), so will understand that when 3:30 is mentioned, I would be a little bit hesitant!

Storm Approaching

The last week of June in Victoria will be remembered as the week that Winter descended. Previous to this we had been having mild temperatures, good enough for running without having to rug up like Arctic explorers. It all changed in the blink of an eye. No fewer than 7 cold fronts in 6 days hit southern Victoria; high wind, power cuts, heavy rain, and copious amounts of snow in the high country. Tales of runners braving some pretty horrendous conditions to get that all important training session in were repeated with much gusto. 

It was with this week of weather almost behind us that the weekend approached for our organised, paced trail run. The forecast for Sunday was varying between awful and horrendous, with horrendous being the highly backed favourite! The day before, the banter started. Suggestions of bringing goggles, scuba gear, fur-lined knickers (seriously, get them on www.wiggle.co.uk!) were bandied around as we all joked in a slightly nervy way. With one eye on the forecast, we all went to sleep wondering what the morning would bring.

Yet another low system approaches through Bass Strait!

And now, the weather for Victoria

I woke up with a start at about 3:30, a good hour and a half before I needed to get up. The rain was bucketing down, so hard I could hear it running in the gutters and downpipes. Not a good sound when contemplating any outdoor activities. The dog had been scratching at the laundry door to get out to go and hide under the house. Not sure if that woke me up, or the distant sound of thunder. Not being able to sleep, I got up and watched the World Cup football. About 4:30 the rain stopped; "Great", I thought. Then the wind picked up, howling through the trees and under the eaves of the house. It was pretty much storm force where I was, 30 kilometres from the Bass Coast. 10 minutes after, the rain came back, this time with thunder and lightening.

I posted on the events page on Facebook a weather report that I hoped would illicit a reply that all was well in the Dandenongs, 1 and a half hours drive away. All I succeeded in doing was scaring the hell out of one of my running buddies! I was immediately messaged by Cheryl to ask what I was going to do. The worst appeared to be over here, but it was hard to tell what was happening where we were going. Considering there is elevation on our run, and running through forest, there was an element of risk attached. I said I'd head in and bail out if conditions didn't improve. She was coming in from the CBD, but decided it wasn't worth the risk. I was okay with that decision, whilst missing a run with one of my fave running friends, I would never put pressure on them to run when they considered conditions were too bad. And that, I thought, was the end of that!

Lightening would not be appreciated during a trail run.

Storm Breaks

At 5:45 I left Leongatha and headed up the highway to Melbourne. At first it was just steady, but light rain falling. That was until I was 40 minutes into the drive and the heavens opened up, and I was reduced to driving at 75 km/h. Thankfully it was brief, and the weather improved the more I drove. I stopped off on the Princess Highway for a quick break, and proceeded to read all the messages on Facebook trying to get Cheryl to reconsider; the weather, apparently, was just fine!

Arrived at The Basin Theatre just on 7:30, to a chorus of jibes, insults and recriminations! Seemed I was, once again, the butt of all jokes. The weather was indeed good. I felt like Chicken Little.... After a bit of organisation, and meeting some new runners, we took off on our run. Peter, David, Chris, Kirra, Nigel, Mike, Marc, Oliver, and myself were the speedy group. There were a couple of other groups also running different distances and pace.

Last weeks elevation profile not being enough,
this is the proposed course of next weeks run!

More Like a Zephyr

The first past of the run was fine. Climbed the Basin-Olinda Road to the top, all 5.5k's of incline, setting a reasonable pace along the way. Weather was cool, but no rain. That all changed at the top. Very soon, the rain started. The temperature plummeted and we got soaked, very quickly. Chris, who less than 24 hours before had arrived back on an international flight, succumbed to a cold he'd picked up in the last week. After a bit of weaving around, Peter directed him to a track (or several) that would get him quickly back to the car park. We all stood around listening to the increasingly detailed directions that Peter was giving him, taking bets on whether we would beat him back, ready to alert the authorities! (Disclaimer: No Poms were lost in the running of this course!)

Because of the weather conditions, the original course had been changed, and we spent a good hour zig zagging across the top of Mt. Dandenong. The pace was on. Unlike previous runs through here where we had run steadily with some long stops to re-group, this one was much faster. Small group, pretty evenly paced, we pushed along at a good clip, with short stops to re-group. Eventually we started to descend back to the car park (Looking for Chris!), and we picked up the pace even more. Consequently my total time for the run was far quicker than any other trail run (or race) I have done before. Certainly a great training session for a marathon.

A debrief over coffee in a warm cafe in The Basin was a welcome end to a great day in the hills. It was during here that it was suggested that we make this a monthly event in an effort to allow runners of all abilities to run in the appropriate paced group.

My pot of gold is a good marathon time, well it is mine!

Over The Rainbow

So, what is the wash-up?

• Trail running, and particularly where there is significant elevation gains and losses, really strengthens the legs. It will be good to run this again at a later date to chart any improvement.
• Running with others who are at your pace, or slightly faster, really pushes you along and makes you work. It took me a while after the run to really appreciate this.
• I suck as a weather forecaster/reporter! Bang goes the plum job on Sunrise!

Next race is You Yangs 30k trail. It's a week before Run Melbourne (21.1k), so I need to see how my training and recovery is going before deciding on how hard I attack the course. 

Other Matters

Marathon Training

Currently at the start of my marathon training programme. After Traralgon a few weeks back, Peter offered to 'tweak' my training programme (his words). What has resulted feels less like a tweak, and more like a Labor party 'Root and Branch' review! Chucked out more than we kept, but it was meant that I now have a plan that targets my weakness, pacing for an extended distance. It seems my 5 and 10k times don't bear relation to my 21 and 42k times. Specifically, I fade significantly the longer the distance. So now I have more tempo runs, longer runs on hills doing short intense bursts (leg strength benefits), and now targeting pace and effort on long runs and the mid-week long run. Overall plan distances haven't changed, just rearranged to be more specific.

parkrun

There are moves afoot to start up a parkrun event in Inverloch, 20 minutes from my home. parkrun is a worldwide phenomenon; a weekly, timed, free, 5 kilometre run, usually in a park or reserve area. It is a great event for everyone from rank beginners to elite athletes. Just recently the proposal was floated by another runner I train with, as much a fishing exercise to gauge support. Very quickly we found we had enough support to form a rough collective of race directors, and a meeting with the local council there has provided in principal support, and an offer of assistance for fundraising. We hope to get it up and running by September. Stay tuned.

Until next time.....

Halfway Gone

Sunday 15th June has a special significance for me. Firstly, it marked my first race during my marathon training programme, and secondly it marked exactly 1 year since I arrived in Victoria. Yep, 365 days ago, I rode my heavily laden motorbike out of the bowels of the Spirit of Tasmania ferry onto the dark, wet streets of Port Melbourne. It was a momentous occasion, highlighting the end of a frenetic month of packing and moving, and facing the uncertainty of a move that had (and still has) the element of high risk about it. So much has happened in that last year; settling in to a new community, races, meeting new friends (and racing them!) etc. So it was fitting that I found myself at the start line at Traralgon Half marathon surrounded by many people that I had met and become friends with during the last year.

Also, Traralgon is a 'local' race, well only an hour from where I live. Nicky and I got up at 5:30 for breakfast and a drive up in the dark and fog. Arriving in there at 7:00am with plenty of time to pick up our race bibs and to catch up with a few friends, it was good to be settled and confident before the race. As has been the case recently, it was not just me racing today, Nicky also running her second 10k event. She would see me off, then be gone herself 15 minutes later.

Bumped in to a number of runners that I have known through Facebook, but have never met. Was also a pleasant surprise to catch up with Paul Wright, a marathoner and ultra runner that I know from Tasmania. Several times he remarked on how fit I looked, clearly the last few months of hard work are paying off! Said good luck to Nicky and took off for a quick warm-up 15 minutes before the race started.

Funny moment before the start when the the guy on the PA, trying to whip up some pre-race enthusiasm, asks if anyone is from interstate (a few hands go up), then goes one better...
Announcer: "Anyone here from overseas?"
Man (directly behind me): "Germany."
Announcer: "Birmingham?"
Man (with extra Teutonic delivery): Germany!!!!
Maybe there is a German quarter in Birmingham, buggered if I know...
Must admit, the guy on the PA reminded me of those early morning FM announcers. You know the "I might not be on drugs, but by God I will give every indication that I am", type of manic delivery. When he handed over to the race director for the race brief/safety talk, he made him sound like a shy 14 year old reading bad poetry at a school awards night.

Finally after a bit more fluffing around and some milking of the sense of anticipation before the race (someone yelled out "get on with it", could have been me...), we got our 10 second countdown and off we went. I had deliberately seeded myself back in the field to avoid the white line fever, bull at a gate start that has dogged some of my recent road races. Needn't have bothered, 4:28 first k, 4:24 for the second! Thing is, I felt good, in control, the breathing was fine and I felt no need to throttle back thinking that by the 3 and 4 k's I would have settled down to my expected 4:40 pace. 3k @ 4:25, 4th @ 4:31.... Bloody hell, every time I looked up I saw the back of fellow Melbourne Marathoner Michael Dale, with his daughter Rebecca a bit of distance ahead. Knowing that Rebecca would be running significantly faster than me, I knew I had to slow down. Put my eyes down and stared at the road, whilst concentrating on holding back. Seemed to work until I lifted my eyes back up and found myself exactly where I was several minutes ago. Ah stuff it, just run at this pace and see where it gets me!

The 4k mark heralded a short rise to the Traralgon-Maffra Road and where most of us had to work to hold the pace. Turn left, then we had a 4.8k section along the Maffra road. This is where I finally slowed up and let the small pack in front of me get slightly ahead. Once they were 20+ metres away I was able to run at my own pace, the next 5 splits were all around the 4:40 pace, and I felt quite comfortable holding this. The turn-off saw us head on to a gravel road for the nearly 2k run to the turn around point. You wouldn't think that a gravel road would present too much difficulty to me having taking up trail running in recent times, but it was tough going trying to maintain my pace along here. A nasty camber, potholes and rocks poking up made it a bit more difficult that I would like for a road run! I wasn't the only one to find it hard along here. One final turn and 100 or so metres up the road was the turn around point for the half marathoners. The marathoners had started with us, so as we approached a Marshall would call out, "straight ahead", or "turn around". Really great to hear "turn around" as I approached!

This was a great part of the race as all runners got to see each other as some headed out, and others headed back. Saw Michael heading back, about a minute in front by my calculations. Really good to have a few shout outs from friends along here. Now on the return leg on the gravel and I was really struggling along here. I was a bit worried that I had really overcooked it, but when I turned left onto the Maffra road again, and the return of the bitumen, I felt my speed pick up and some fluency return to my stride. A k and a half up the road was the last aid station/water stop. I ran through having only had water at the 5 and 10.5k marks, and no carbohydrate gels at all. This was a deliberate ploy, I want to run Melbourne without any reliance on sports drinks, gels etc., feeling that my training prior to the event, and the food in the days before, will carry me through. It was good to test it today.

Approaching the 15k mark, friend Regan Welburn came past me at quite a good clip. He'd followed me to the turnaround and was now disappearing into the distance. It was along this stretch of road that I realised that I was having to dig deep to keep moving at a good pace. I didn't realise at the time, but my speed was slipping considerably. Not long later and I noticed a number of runners passing me, a sure sign that I had started too fast and was now paying the price. At the 17k mark we had a small climb to the intersection where we turned off the Maffra road. It resulted in my slowest split time of the day, and a real workout for my cardiovascular system! I was bloody glad to turn and head back downhill to the flat 4k's to the finish.

By now I am really feeling the fatigue in the legs and watching as a potential half marathon PB slowly disappears into history. I was bloody annoyed with myself for failing to follow my race plan, but for the time being had to just grit the teeth and get home. By now we had met up with the walkers in the 10k event. Although they were supposed to be giving us plenty of room, not many did. A number of us had to run around groups of walkers. It might have been more obvious if I'd ploughed straight through them, but even approaching the end of a tough race, I felt it wise not to act like a complete idiot!

The final corner and the run beside the tennis courts appeared. By now I can hear the guy on the PA yelling out runners names as they cross the line, probably the same Berserk Warrior on the PA from the start! One final runner passes me and we turn to head back into the Tennis Centre and the finish line. I can honestly say that was the worse shape I have finished a race since the marathon last year! I was rooted, to use a technical running term, and the final run up to the finishing shute was more on memory than anything else. The final inglorious action came when the volunteer tried to drape the medal over my neck and only managed to get it caught up on my ears! Now I know they stick out a bit, but that just made it so obvious. The poor girl was desperately trying to right a wrong and not get her hands anywhere near my ears. Eventually sorted, I thanked her, grabbed a bottle of water and got the hell out of the finish area before I threw up, I felt that ill.

So good to finish. Felt in worse shape at the end of this race, than I did at any other race this year.
(Photo credit: Nicole Walsh)

It was only a minute later, as I am hunched over, trying to recover, that Nicky bounds over, all cock a hoop over her run.She had run a PB and more importantly, run the entire race. I was absolutely thrilled for her, even if I didn't look very gracious just at that point in time! Each time she runs a race, she improves by a significant amount. I am more than a little impressed by her ability to apply herself to training and racing. Pretty soon I had recovered enough to walk around and catch up with some other people. First up to Regan who smashed his half PB by a massive 12 minutes, a massive effort, and he was very proud. A number of people had stellar performances, the weather and conditions helped enormously.

Caught up with Michael Dale, who had pretty much an identical race to me. Too hard at the start, then struggling to hang on during the return journey. We both had a bit of a laugh with each other over our stupidity, considering our relative experiences as runners. Never too old to learn (or make mistakes!). His daughter Rebecca, had run a sizzling 1:32, a wonderful performance.

Rebecca Dale, Ashley Bennett, me, Michael Dale, and Danny Burgess; all having finished the half marathon.
Yes we could smile now.... (Photo credit: Nicole Walsh)

So what did I take away from today. Firstly, despite the disappointment at missing a PB, I was satisfied that I had given it a good crack. Once again early pacing was the key. In fact I ran the first 5k in 22:08 (what I would consider as an average 5k race time), and the first 10k in 45:32 (pretty close to what I would expect to run a 10k race). So I have pace in my legs, even if the endurance needs some work. But the way I held on when it got seriously tough in the last 6k's gave me confidence that I am stronger and tougher.

Next race is potentially 30k trail race at You Yangs. The week after is Run Melbourne, where I will be pacing a couple of friends to (hopefully) some PB's. I will definitely have to make sure that I am running well there to cope with the demands of assisting others. A great challenge that I am really looking forward to.

Footnote: When I was packing up in Tasmania last year, I had a quick look at the Victorian Racing Calendar, and spied the Traralgon Marathon and half. Thinking it was as close to a local race for Leongatha as I would get, I kept a mental note to look at doing it. I also worked out that I would arrive in Victoria the morning it was on, and wondered if I could ride up there and maybe do the 10, before heading on to South Gippsland. When I mentioned this to Nicky a couple of weeks ago, it was met with a withering stare. Pretty much glad I made the right decision there... On such small decisions do successful partnerships succeed (or fail)!

Until next time...

Hold on to your Friends

Friday

Any runner will tell you that you have to take the good with the bad. It's maxim that translates to any sporting activity where the physical ability of the body is required for the task. At age 50, I am well aware of the frailties of the human body, especially mine.

So, it is with some concern that I sit here at week 1 of a 20 week training plan for Melbourne Marathon, with ice strapped to my right calf. It is a sensation that I am all to familiar with, having suffered the exact same injury to the left calf in 2008. That time I was out of running for nearly 14 months. (I needn't have been, but a series of miss diagnoses, incorrect advice, and too much caution from me spread a 4 to 6 week injury out to 14+ months.)

So, short term, no running at all. Medium to long-term, trip to physiotherapist on Monday will determine the extent of the injury. My self-diagnosis is grade 2 tear at the Achilles/Soleus transition. A sod of a place to treat. I know; as I've said before, I've been there. So now I have a race against time, and initial expectations of potential times for Melbourne will have to be re-assessed. 

How did it happen? Doing one-legged uneven weight arm swings for core strength, and to correct my arm swing, which is across the body rather than front-to-back. Over-balanced, and rather than just putting my other foot down, I tried to maintain balance and ended up twisting on my lower leg. Never felt anything 'go', just woke up on Friday morning with a sore spot that got worse as the day progressed.

But as bad as that news is for me personally, it pales into insignificance the rest of my week. Bad news piled on bad news, culminating in a friend of 20+ years telling me she has breast cancer. 2 operations, and with chemotherapy to come, her struggles are potentially life-threatening. Makes my week seem insignificant. Such an insidious and indiscriminate disease is cancer.

So at the end of a particularly shitty week I was in a mood that ranged from foul to downright morose. Normally I am pretty well up all the time (occasional bouts of running self-doubt notwithstanding), so it was from this normal high that I crashed to a low that I am not familiar with. Not being able to run only compounded the sense of despair; running is therapy, therapy clears my head, with head cleared I can confront most of what life throws my way. I struggled to contain my bleak mode from my wife and son, not wanting to burden them with what was mostly very personal stuff.

Saturday

Dinner with friends, the best tonic after a crappy week.
Note how the restaurant has cleared out!
 We stayed a bit late.

Mood hadn't lifted much in the morning and I was faced with a decision. A dinner had been organised with a group of trail running friends who I have met since moving to Victoria. They are great company; positive, friendly and good to be around. But such was my mood, I didn't want to go and be in a bad mood all night. Nicky urged me to go, said it would do me good. Probably wanted me out of the house, such a ray of sunshine that I was!

Thankfully another friend also weighed in, wanting me to go as well. I am very grateful to both as it was a great night! So easy to just blend in, have many different conversations with everyone and forget about troubles beyond the walls of the restaurant. I feel very fortunate to have fallen in with such a great crowd of people, just made me realise how much I enjoy my time with them.

Monday

Work got off to a far better start, even if it was just the fact that it wasn't last week! Trip to physio revealed that the injury wasn't as bad as first feared. As much to do with my aggressive application of ice, strapping, massage, and Nurofen to reduce the swelling. What had, at the time, seemed like a potential month or two on the sidelines, had now turned into a week to 10 days. I was one very relieved runner. It would have been a very shitty way to have ended my return to Melbourne.

Epilogue

So now it is Wednesday night and things seemed to have settled down again. Sorry about the personal blog this time. Needed to not just deal with the highs, the lows are also part of a runners lot to deal with. The fact that it coincided with a number of personal issues just compounded it. The good thing to come out of Saturday night was that a number of us are going to compete in relay teams at the Surf Coast Century run in September. Even better than racing trail races?, doing it as part of a team!

Postscript

Thursday: trip to the physio. brings good news, I can run tomorrow.

Until next time...

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...