Breakin' Down

A Brief Summary

The last time England cricket team toured Australia, they were wiped 5-0. It was the 2103/2014 summer and in mid-January, I was introduced to trail running at Two Bays 28k.
Roll forward 4 years, England tour again (this time 4-0), and I once again toed the start line (this time the 56k).
Frustratingly though I have not competed in the intervening years. All lost through injury. If it means I can only get to Two Bays in an Ashes year, so be it. But gee that is gunna be tough if it means every 4 years. They say your first is always the one you hold closest to the heart, and this race has that hold on me.
To say my build-up has been bigger than Ben Hur would be an understatement, except that while the Ben Hur thing (the movie) was anything but an understatement, it was grande, on a grande scale.
Anyway, what was I saying? Yes, the build up. Early bird entries opened in July, special pricing after 9:00pm on a weeknight. Might have been slightly overexcited and jumped in to enter the 56. I didn't have a qualifier, no problems, been here before. So many friends were in parts excited or anxious, but supportive; this was going to a big 6 months lead-in.
As previously blogged, I had a pretty good last 6 months of 2017. Wonderland 36, Surf Coast Century 50k, and Melbourne Marathon. A break after MM, then a slow build-up with the intention to hit peak distance in mid-December. Never quite got there, new house taking up a lot of time. But still, as the New Year rolled in, I felt I was ready. A 41k training run on the flatter sections of the course 2 weeks out was a real confidence booster.

Race Day minus 1

Stayed with my friend Grace in St. Andrews on Saturday night. Rain belting down most of the night, wind howling through cracks in between the window and the sill.  This was not the summer weather I had been training through for the last couple of months.

Race Day

Morning dawns a bit calmer, although the weather still very unsummery.

Drive to Cape Schanck, meet lots of people, many wishing me well on my return. This has been talked up a fair bit. But I'm quite calm, trail races don't hold the same fear factor as a road marathon.

DTR crew ready to roll at Cape Schanck. Stephen, Nick, Narelle, myself,
Ross, Cassandra (reporter extraordinaire), Majid and Belle. Photo credit: Cassandra Gash

Jumper off, race kit on, watch fired up, countdown and then off we go. Well for 30 metres before the first bottleneck gets us! Lots of chat, nerves, ego, attention deficit, whatever, as we make our way along the path with Bushrangers Bay over our right shoulders.

Race start, and off we go. Photo credit: Cassandra Gash

The First 16

The first photographer on the trail, people jumping, me thinking I'm not wasting energy that early!

Down the steps at the newly named Stairs of Spontaneous Poetry (love your work Cam Baillie), everyone laughing how they wouldn't be (laughing) on the way back.

A beautiful single track, still in large groups but most of us content to stick to the group pace, plenty of places to pass later on. The pace is fine, 6 to 6:30 pace. We are mostly in a long line, the occasional overtaking manoeuver to keep everyone on their toes. But mostly it is all good, no incidents, no-one getting upset, we are all settling into the rhythm of the race.

Hit Boneo Road aid station at the 34-minute mark. I knew a few people here, and it was here that my great friend Chrissy had a massive smile, and her arms spread wide for the BIGGEST hug ever! I'd only run 6k, what was the return in 5+ hours going to be like? It was a great way to send me on my way. Chris and Michael from Lysterfield Trail Runners also here, as well as Kim Day, Race Director Rohan's wife. She had chatted with me at Wonderland last August about how happy she was going to be seeing me come back through there on the way back. Trusting I would be happy too! 

Exiting Boneo Road, 6k in.
Photo credit: Andrew Ross.

Cross the road, lots of peeps spectating, several friends there shouting out, photos being taken etc. Back into the bush and onto the diversion. This is in place to avoid congestion, head-ons etc. as the 28k runners run south, and we run north. Another friend Nigel is marshalling here to direct us up the correct path. Another hug (Nigel has had a torrid 2017 for him and his family, was just brilliant him and Jacinta came out to volunteer), and off we head up Long Pt. Circuit. The first section is through a climbing single track, a bit overgrown in places such that we get sprayed with wet foliage. A right turn, sharp left then we are on to a graded road, come rough track.

By now the groups are thinning somewhat. Some of us are electing to walk some of the steeper sections, knowing what's coming up, many others keep running.

The next aid station at the 10k mark pops up around a corner. Although we could hear them a mile away. Kerry Schilke was there spectating, cheering us all on. She would keep bobbing up all over the place during the run, following a group of runners from the very popular 'Running in the Burbs' group. They were ahead and behind me for most of the day, hence why Kerry was there lots.

Started finding empty gel wrappers along here. One looked old, maybe from our run here a fortnight ago, another was clearly today's. I stopped to pick them up when I could, fully intending to get rid of them at the next aid station (or the one after that, or the turnaround, or maybe on the way back, or ..... Yep, carried them all the way to the finish line). The weather has cleared after early drizzle and the sun is warm but race conditions are near perfect. Second gel, more sports drink. Stop 5 minutes later to eat some Cliff Bar and then think I should have done it at the aid station, that is, had a yak with the vollies (dumb...)

Roads and Suburbia

Hyslops aid station marks the start of the roads, bits of suburbia, sections of small reserve before we get to the back of Arthurs Seat. A couple of friends here at the aid station, Grace who I stayed with the night before, and Kat, one of the founding RD's at Inverloch parkrun. Both ushering the runners to the marquee, telling us what was on offer. I decided I had enough water and food, so went running through. Only to bump into Danny Burgess. He'd stopped to get food in and realised he'd started a bit too fast.

Danny (far left of picture) and I travelling well down
Duells Road. Photo credit: Toni Mackinlay.

Danny and I ran down Hyslops together, across Browns Road where there were lots of spectators and into the bush section beyond. Nasty little climb at the end of this bush then back out on to a gravel road again, heading towards Coolgowie Bushland Reserve. This is the back end of Rosebud, and a bitumen road looms ahead, a few cars, spectators (Nicole and Toni from Victorian Ultra Runners, VUR, taking photos, calling out names). Most of us are still having a few chats with one another, the pace is deliberately cruisey as we have a fair few k's left to run (and a double date with Arthurs Seat).

Through Coolgowie Bushland Reserve, past the Aid station here (someone telling me my board shorts were great, matching my legs, or some such statement..) and more bitumen as we climb Coolgowie Road to turn right up Waterfall Gully Road, heading to Arthurs Seat NP. DTR Diana was marshalling at the entrance, taking photos, accepting hugs, and then we were through and our first date with Arthurs.

Up and Then Down...

But before the date proper we had to deal with his bastard brother 'The hill at Maclarens Dam', a short pinch of 1.4k that starts very steep, then flattens out. So steep at the start, that as soon as the gradient gets to about 10 degrees, the natural tendency is to run. Then stop when you realise you can't really run this. It dips down, you think "Bewdy, climbing at an end", but no. Fecker goes on a bit longer, on road, all the way. Views across to Sorrento and Nepean Point on this day are wonderful (excepting those darkish clouds over Port Phillip Bay).

Climbing finally stops. By now Danny has got ahead of me, Mark Liam is with me (another VUR) and we are chatting with a girl doing her first ultra. What a great way to tick that one off. Turn into the trail proper and now is the waiting game to see when the front-runners return in the opposite direction. Wasn't long before on a section of flowing single trail runners in front were calling out "RUNNERS!!" Well yes, we were runners, but... Then Ash Bennet, Francesco Ciancio and another runner came flying around a corner. Myself and 2 other runners neatly side-stepping off the track before rejoining it. Closely followed by Majell Backhausen and then the first women, Lucy Bartholomew flying past and looking super strong.

And then it was a steady stream of runners coming back. A few saying hello, people I know, and people who know me. Gave me quite a boost. Then finally hit a pop-up aid station, a VUR had set up with coke, potato crisps and lollies. On the way back I would avail myself of this.

Then the descent towards Dromana. had a female runner pass me down here. She knew me, knew my name (wasn't on the bib), knew my running and injury history and my history with this event. Which was great, except when it came to her it was 'bar of soap' territory. I'm really sorry if you're reading this, I'm shithouse with names (and faces in reality), and feel terrible. Halfway down bump into fellow BBR runner Colin Hart gamely climbing back up. A quick hello, he tells me I'm looking strong (well thanks, but I am going downhill at this point!) and down I go. Start seeing lots more runners now, many I know on their way to PB's, strong runs etc.

Finally, I come to the end of the trail and hit the bitumen section on Lachlan Parade that leads us directly to Dromana. Now I have an issue with this section. As discussed with Nick Cimdins, why does it seem to take longer to run downhill to Dromana, than it does to turn around and hike major sections of that back up? The run down took forever. Those black clouds out over Port Phillip Bay 25 or so minutes ago? Materialised as a light shower along here. My mood darkened accordingly, and I just wanted to get into Dromana and see friends and refuel and get off the sodding road (and have a piss, busting most of the way down Arthurs, too many other runners to stop. Then HELLO suburbia...)

That Was the Easy Bit

Entering the aid station at Dromana. Slap on the arse from Matt.
Closely followed in by friend Drew Dunstone. Photo credit: Paula Pettingill.

Then after a millennium of running, Dromana aid station came into sight. Baw Baw Runner Carolyn was there directing us left to go across the timing pads, Matt Veenstra was there (slap on the arse probably needed when I was leaving aid station, not entering 😁 ) and Jamie Smith, all there to help me out. One of the icons of Two Bays is ringing the bell at the turnaround. And gee I gave that bell a bloody great bash! Stopped, grabbed some replacement sports drink (thanks, Warick King for the help there), gels and ran off to the toilet. Crucially I didn't pick up a spare bottle of Pickle Juice, thinking I was right. Would later pay dearly for that decision.

Colin Hart just before Dromana aid station.
Photo credit: Paula Pettingill.

Mental state better, partially recovered I left Dromana and headed back up Arthurs Seat for the 2nd of 2 dates today. Still lots of runners coming in, hi-5s and greetings as we all passed. Passed Kate Smith along here. She was volunteering, ringing a cowbell loudly and cheering us all on. Was a nice throwback to me, don't really know Kate well but met here through a mutual friend in 2014 when she ran the 56, and I ran my first 28 here. Further up at the end of the road before we returned to the Arthurs Seat trail, gun ultra runner Kath MacMillan was also there with a cowbell. But I was walking this section, "bell only rings for walkers!" I was told. "Douche grade hill" might also have been mentioned. Thanks, Kath...

Back up the trail and bumped into fellow DTR's Majid and Stephen. Majid looked like he wanted to get on with it, Stephen looked like he was picking his way deliberately and slowly up the trail. We soon all separated again. The most I remember about climbing here was hoping that my legs would be able to run again when the gradient flattened out. When it did I was able to run, but the sections over Arthurs had taken their toll. Still with 24k's+ to go, things weren't looking flash. Nevertheless, I've been here before, I knew I needed to just keep moving as moods change, the body adapts etc.
Exited the trail, then the downhill section that was the bastard uphill section that was (still is) the road to Maclarens Dam! The final steep section involved a number of us tip-toeing down on the road. Either that or run on the grass verge, but that didn't look any better, to be honest. Finally onto the dam wall and then back out onto Waterfall Gully Road. Backtracking to Coolgowie on roads that gently descend was fine for my legs, but on Coolgowie Road I felt the first tentative twinges of cramp in the right hamstring and left calf. Suddenly realised I hadn't grabbed the extra Pickle Juice but thought if I keep my gels and sports drink up I would survive. Stopped at the aid station at the bottom, friend Lou helping me out, everyone asking me how I was going. One of the frontrunners of the race had pulled out here. Franky was hanging around issuing orders, encouragement etc.

Through Coolgowie Busland Reserve, then back onto another road. It was along here, and into the next reserve that I was spying more empty gel packets. Picked a couple up before working out that I couldn't bend over to pick them up. Actually, barefaced lie. I could bend over, standing up was going to be the weak link in the chain.

Just Plugging Away

The section from Duells Road to Browns Road is a phytophthora free area. Wash down pads at either end for us to scrub our shoes and for me a reminder of the fragility of areas we run in and the impacts we can have. Crossed Browns Road and then contemplated the climb up Hyslops. I was well aware when Danny and I ran down this 4 hours previous how steep and long it actually was. Running back was just confirmation really. Ran/walked until it got too steep, then walked all the way into the aid station. Grace and Kat and Bernie Hughes all here, all checking us out and giving us what we needed. I stopped here for just over a minute and a half, recovering and mentally preparing myself for the next section through Greens, and my favourite section on this course.

Baw Baw Runners finished the 28k. L to R: Ash Buchanan, Paul Myers, Catherine Mckenna and Paul Fallon.
Photo credit: Linda Myers.

It was in here that I ran alongside several runners, leap-frogging one another for most of this section. Jason, Kay and one who I shall refer to as 'Runner in yellow shirt'. Actually, his name is Andrew, I just didn't know that at the time! This section gently descends, for the most part, through the beautiful bush. Lots of tree ferns, eucalyptus, bird life. The dappled sunlight streaming through the canopy made it humid in here, but it wasn't hot, just a bit warm. But it really was perfect running conditions. Just a pity my legs decided this was the section to pack it in...

Cramps came and went. Run, cramp, massage, walk it out, run again, rinse repeat. It was a slog. All the way through here was the same. But still I pushed on, every step is a step closer to finish, every time you run it happens quicker. Our little group leapfrogged, we chatted, encouraged one another and just kept moving forward. Andrew (from Brisbane, did I mention that?) were side-by-side in sections here, nit chatting, juts running and getting it done. As I've said, this section is wonderful, and it helped to salve the mental battles I was waging. There are a couple of short steep little climbs, not much, but these really started to make the cramps come on strong.

It took me 1:15 to get from the top of Hyslops to Boneo Road. All that time running, walking, running again. Keeping our little group in sight. Sometimes getting ahead (as we were all battling some issues of either fatigue, cramping or injury etc.), but we never got too far ahead or behind each other. There was a small aid station somewhere near Long Point Road that had coke, water and various goodies. Stop here, a quick chat with Jac who I met at Wonderland, and then on I pressed to Boneo Road. I was really setting my sights on getting to Boneo. I'd been using each aid station as little markers to aim for. No more than 10k apart, their appearance a blessing, the leaving a sad but necessary fact if I wanted to get this done. About 2k from Boneo, I lost sight of my friend in yellow (Andrew, from Brisbane, apparently we'd met before!). We'd been urging each other on for the nearly an hour, but he was clearly stronger and was running faster.

Now Boneo was next, and a bit special. Last aid stop before the finish, set in a pleasant grove of trees just off the road, and I have special memories of this place. First Two Bays in 2014, 22k mark of my 28k run and I hit this station having run strongly through Greens. But I had needed water, and or sports drink desperately. Grabbed the first cup I saw downed it, then realised that it was coke. Not normally an issue, but I was 2 months into a no added sugar diet, and the combination of sugar and caffeine had the required effect as I mowed down 20+ runners on the way to Cape Schanck! Following year, as a volunteer there I witnessed the (what I thought then as) superhuman feats by many runners in the 56. And I was on hand to help my friend Chrissy in her first Two Bays after she'd had a pretty bad race. 2018, and roles are reversed as she is there, and I'm running in.

An aid station that was an oasis in a world of hurt for me. So great seeing these guys and girls.
My 3 friends are from far left, Chris, Chrissy and Michael. Photo credit ?

After the gentle descent through Greens, the path comes out of the forest into open plain grassland, and then the trail climbs to Boneo Road. Traffic noise becomes evident, then still a kilometre out, the noise from the volunteers can be heard. Shouting, yelling, a horn of some description, cowbells; a grin spreads across my face. That last climb was a struggle, but before I knew it, the exit to the road appeared, and across the road I ran to the aid station.

An Oasis in my World of Pain 

Finishing.
Photo credit: Tony O'Connell

The noise was full-on. Spectators lining the path in, my friend Rose who I haven't seen in years is there, having run the 28k in the morning. Friends Chris and Michael were there on hand to greet me as I got to the table. Other vollies came over, offering water, sports drinks, coke etc. I was a bit dazed here but in good spirits. But I was also hurting pretty hard, the cramps and the fatigue really getting to me. Chrissy was busy attending to another runner, but was soon there to see me and get me all that I needed, give me the biggest hug and send me on my way. Was just the boost I needed. A few kinds words from Michael and Nigel, and zooper dooper from Kim Day and off I went again.

Finishing.
Photo credit: Rose Fuller

I'd had high hopes that I could run most of the way to Cape Schanck, but 2 minutes down the track, another eye-watering cramp hit me. More sports drink, one last gel and I continued on. In my mind's eye, I was slowing down and being passed by plenty of runners along here. And that may well have been the case, but a look at the results shows that I pulled back many places over the 2nd half of the course! Finally, I reached the horrid steps up the far side of Burrabong Creek and hobbled up them. By now even walking up these steps raises the heart rate.  From here it is 2.5k to the finish. I don't care about the distance, I just keep going until I start registering markers like the first sighting of the lighthouse, the several benches along the way, the road that comes in from the right.

Then, as with Boneo, the noise of the finish line can be heard. Is it a trick of the south-westerly breeze making it seem closer? Another runner looms up on my right and passes me. She looks stronger, but we both walk the next hill, I stay close behind, using her as inspiration to keep going. Hoping she doesn't think I feel slighted that she's passed me. I'm beyond that, finishing is the only thing. Kate Smith appears from around a corner, cowbell still going, still yelling encouragement to me.

One Day Son, This Race is Gunna End

Smiling, at the end of an ultra...
Photo credit: Matt Veenstra

And all of a sudden we enter the wide open area just before finish line. People are still lining the path in. Lots of yelling of names, people holding out their hands to hi-5 me and other runners. Such a great feeling, all the pain suddenly forgotten, all the cramps suddenly disappeared (I hope...), and the speed picks up as we turn right and climb the final stretch to the finish line. The sun is out, people are yelling out, a volunteer is there waiting to place a medal around my neck. There is nothing I wouldn't give at that very moment to be bottled and brought back at times of trouble.

Cross the finish lines arms aloft, then stop the watch and receive the biggest hug from friend Karen who'd been getting anxious wondering where I was. She placed the medal on my neck and then directed me to food and drink on the table. Honestly couldn't eat or drink anything, but an ice cold can of coke did the trick. The only time I'll ever drink the stuff, during and post ultra. I was walking around for a bit, under cover of the finish line, mainly because I didn't think I could sit without cramping.

Standing in the finish line area, can of coke in hand, my friend in yellow comes over to say hello. Turns out we'd met before. He'd run Warragul parkrun several weeks back, then the 2 of us had met on the Two Towns trail between Warragul and Drouin 3 weeks before the race. His sister-in-law recognised me from parkrun on the day. Small world indeed.

The Aftermath

December 2017 marked my biggest ever distance and vertical climbed since I've kept records. Yet that alone wasn't enough to get me through Two Bays 56. Yet I don't think I'm too far away in terms of strength and conditioning. Continue training, strength work in the gym, and avoid over-training injury and the gains will come. And eat early in the race, I'm still leaving it far too late, when the point of no return has passed.
Such a great event, I will be back next year for sure.
A big thank you to all the organising crew, Rohan Day, Michael Clarke and Kate Ablett. As well as all the volunteers (the aid stations are the best), and lastly all the other runners. Always run in the great spirit of companionship, and friendly rivalry it is the perfect start to the racing calendar year.

Next event is Tarawera 62 in New Zealand.
Then Roller Coaster 21 2 weeks after that. Recovery the key between events.

Until next time....

Victorian Ultra Runners (VUR) group shot. Big representation will look great
when VUR colours are on display.

Optimistic

The Year Ahead

(Although hindsight is a wonderful thing, it's good to try and look forward to forecast the journey)

In 2013 I fell in love with trail running. Funny really, as I'd bushwalked for years with my wife, and was a reasonably handy road runner. But yet I never connected the dots. It took a series of events leading from me finally having a crack at a marathon, meeting other runners through the running forum, and a shared desire to 'change it up a bit' that brought me to the start line of Two Bays.
So technically it was 2014, but that is hair-splitting of the highest order, in my humble opinion. That race was documented in 2 parts, so enamoured of the experience was I, and was really the start of this blog, to some degree.

First trail run. Posing alongside the Two Bays car, our legs covered in the dust from the trail, the 'Two Bays tan' as we affectionately call it! And a lifelong love affair with trail running had commenced.

Unfortunately, that's where the good story ends. The following 3 years I trained hard, I got injured, I bailed out of the race. It was a cycle that I was doomed to repeat in 2015, 2016, and 2017. 3 years, all passed me by as I either volunteered or spectated. I still had fun (not running in the blast furnace of 2016 was nothing less than bittersweet), but I always vowed to return.
But roll on 2018. Sitting here, typing away on a balmy summers evening, I am in taper mode. No injuries, illness, nothing is looking to get in the way. And I am ready, having prepared for the best part of 6 months since early bird entries opened.

But this is only part of my racing programme for the year. Currently, the calendar looks like this;
January- Two Bays 56k, 
February - Tarawera 62k (or possibly 65.4 if race organisers reroute some of the course), 
February - Roller Coaster run 21.5k (basically a sprint 😆), 
March - Duncans Run 50k.
May - Margaret River Ultra 80k
July - Macedon 50k,
August - Wonderland 36k (another sprint...), then 
September - Surf Coast Century 100k.
Get the picture, it's a busy year with some big races. For the most part, it will be minimal training as I roll from one race to another, but that is what is needed for this ageing body. Recovery as important as training.

Long range forecast for Dromana as of 6 January. I'll take that.

But, back to Two Bays. Weather forecast looks like it could be anywhere between 18 and 25 degrees. Always a talking point in the lead up to the race, but in reality, there is nothing we can do, just race to the conditions. Oh, and I'm doing the 56, a longheld ambition to run the distance that this race was founded on. A 41k training run there last week showed me what was needed, but also gave me confidence that I have the ability and the mental capacity to run it well.
I'm looking forward to testing myself on this course. A few hills (Arthurs Seat the main biggie), but plenty of sections that are ripe for running. And there will be heaps of support along the way, friends cheering us on, plenty more volunteering at the many aid stations along the way.

The Year Past

I keep a written diary for running. A bit old school, but it documents some of the things that online diaries don't always allow you to do; weather, diet, feelings etc. As I flicked through 2017's, I came across an entry on January 1, a series of goals for the year. To be honest, I've never been one to do the whole New Years Resolution bit, but it must have been my frame of mind last year that made me put into writing the things that I needed to focus on. And I managed to do all 6;

1. Stay injury free,
2. Get back to racing weight,
3. Continue strength and core training,
4. Reduce race goals and expectations,
5. Enjoy my running, celebrate the social side, and
6. Give back to running what you have got from it.

I haven't set any goals or promises for 2018, and maybe I don't need to. I have an ambitious year ahead, the main thing is to be sensible, take it in my stride and enjoy the journey.

Until next time...

You Could Feel The Sky

A Short History of why….

So, 4 years ago this blog came into existence after what was, for me, a failed marathon effort. Several days after marathon #3, and the emotions have subsided somewhat, I have had time to reflect on what took place Sunday. Fair to say I had a great day out, couldn't have wished for a better result.
But Sunday was more than just the day itself. At the start of the year, I was dealing with an injury, the runners' nightmare that can be Plantar Faciatis. After getting through rehab (mid-February), and then return to running programme (late February to early March), I was then back into training. A long layoff though meant it was a gradual build-up from a very low base. Getting to Surf Coast Century (my A-list race for 2017) meant a very sensible and trouble free training block from April right through to September. The fact that I made it to SCC was as much good management as it was good fortune. The only real disappointment was that SCC didn't go to plan. Low energy and eventually cramps meant a bloody long day and a tough grind to the finish line.

Last minute burst of inspiration!

Melbourne Marathon was never really on the cards. Earlier in the year, I thought it was a big ask, but as training continued well, and I gained fitness and strength, I considered it a remote possibility. But as it drew closer, and the cost of entry increased, the value for money decreased and I was giving up on the idea. Lo and behold, I win a freebie through Devil Bend Running Festival and there was never any thought other than doing the marathon. It is my Everest. Yes, I've run longer. But a road marathon is defined by the fact that it's hard to hide on the roads. A bad day cannot be disguised as it can be on a trail. So all I had to do was work out if I'd switch training for it, and how it would fit in with racing a 50k trail 5 weeks prior. This is how it all panned out.

Taper

Marathon taper in the past has been about 2 weeks, give or take a few days. Essentially, my last run over 20k, then a structured programme of runs that keep the legs ticking over, the mind focused on the job ahead (pace run usually at or slightly faster than target marathon pace), then a few days of rest before race day. This year was unconventionally different. Several months prior to even signing up for Melbourne, we had discussed going bushwalking in North Queensland on Hinchinbrook Island. As the time approached I was silently concerned what this might do to mara prep but decided to go with the flow and just not worry about it.
In hindsight, it was an inspired choice of activities. Yes it was hot and humid, yes it was tough hauling a fully laden backpack on rough and hilly terrain for the week, and sleep was not great due to the overnight temps and my back refusing to accept the 20mm of sleeping mat between it and the ground! But it was 5 days without social media or anything to do with the outside world. It let me pass a week without thinking too much about the race, and I was relaxed and (inadvertently), adjusted to warmer temperatures. Arriving back in Melbourne the Monday of race week, I was ready to go.
Another piece of my preparation was to go caffeine free. No coffee, no tea, no chocolate for 2 weeks before the race. Reason being that using caffeinated gels, or any product designed to boost energy seems to have a negligible effect. I was hoping that by allowing the system to adapt to no caffeine when it enters my system on race day, it would be to greater effect. There is a body of study and evidence that this works, but ideally, it should be trialled in training first. I hadn't had that luxury.

Race Eve

Saturday morning walking at parkrun in Warragul, chatting with Colin who was also running the marathon. Home to get final pack done, then on the train to Melbourne. Arrived at the expo to pick up my bib, grab my race kit freebie, and drop my personal drinks bottles off.

Melbourne Marathon bib #3.

Pretty much all races of any major size will supply drinks and other foods for runners. But in a marathon, you need to make sure the supplied products work, and better still can be stomached. Not having used Endura gels or Hydralite sports drink, I decided to use my own. The plan was to carry 3 gels in a pocket, and have a drink and gel to pick up at 24k mark, and a double shot coffee pick up at the 36k mark (remember that point about trying things in training first? Yep, another one here…). If my target time of 3:45 was on track, the gels and drinks would get me there, just. Any longer and it was going to be on a wing and a prayer.
Caught up with a few friends at the expo, resisted the urge to get the credit card out and smash it big time, then went to find my accommodation in Melbourne. Did some shopping along the way for dinner, as well as a 6 pack of beer (2 for Saturday night, the rest for Sunday!). Apart from managing to smash a beer bottle on the floor in the kitchenette, the night was uneventful. (unit stank of beer for the rest of the weekend though…)

Race Day

Day started at 1:00am. No, I hadn't set my alarm ridiculously early. A door slammed in the next unit, a mans voice at the door, greeted by a woman who then proceeded to walk around the units wooden floors in what sounded like high heels. Various noises and more doors opened and closed at various intervals throughout the rest of the night lead me to believe one thing: prostitute.
At about 4:00am I gave up on sleep, got on the phone and Facebooked for a period. At 4:30 I put the phone back down and rested up for a bit waiting for the alarm at 4:45. So, when I suddenly sat bolt upright at 5:05 wondering why I hadn't heard the alarm, I tried not to panic too much.

Early morning light. Fed Square looking over towards The G.

After a shower, coffee, bowl of muesli and some toast and a final check of my bag with its change of clothes, I was off to the MCG. A 2k walk, it was a nice warm-up. The dawn sky was appearing as I turned at Federation Square and followed the ever increasing lines of people heading in the same direction as I was. I was anxious, but the nerves were at bay. I felt confident that I was prepared, and that if I followed my race and pacing plan I would be fine.
Bag drop area was the subject of a heavy security presence. Thankfully not held up too much here. Inside I organised myself, sunscreen on as the day was forecast clear and sunny, heart rate strap fitted, new VUR THIE folded and placed on my head. Drop my bag, then head towards the start line. This is where my nerves usually kick in, and today was no different.
Bumped into friend Amanda on the bridge to Rod Laver Arena. We had planned to run together at the start, so organised to meet with the 3:40 pace group where our friend Chris Johnstone (CJ) was pacing. Knew there would be heaps of friends hanging around.

The following is a combined race report from Amanda and myself. Nice to see both points of view for what we both agree was our race for 2017.

Race Start T-20 minutes

Okay, quite nervy now. Just want to get it done. The day before at the expo I had bought a bottle of CrampFix and now was the time to neck 20mls. After SCC and the cramping issues, I was keen to try Pickle Juice, a product a number of my friends swear by. Fellow ultra runner Donald Bailey had recommended CrampFix to me when I had trouble sourcing Pickle Juice. He said it tasted like poison, and I couldn't fault him on that as my mouth instantly got a screaming case of the 'tingling all over' variety. But 10 seconds later that feeling was gone. I was supposed to take another 20+ ml at the halfway point, then as needed if cramps appeared. If any left at the end, finish it off to help prevent post-race cramping.

All smiles at the start. The 3:40 pace group, Wayne, Connie, Glenn, Andrea
(obscured), me, CJ and Majid (obscured). (Photo credit Chris Johnstone)

The National anthem was sung. Nice to see everyone stay quiet, although we still as a collective don't know the words! We are 3 minutes away from start, photos, selfies, wishing everyone luck, trying not to jump out of your skin. This is truly the worst part, give me the pain of the last 10k of a mara any day. Want me to confess to being the second gunman, make me stand at the start of a marathon for several hours…
By now I realise Amanda hasn't appeared. Hoped she was okay. Then, we were off. Took me 55 seconds to cross the start line after the gun, where I proceeded to make possibly my only mistake of the day. I always start my watch when the gun goes off. Official time for a marathon is gun time, not nett time measured when you cross the start line and the timing system records you as started. It's also what the pace groups work off, so if you are following one, you have to take that into account. As we cross the start line, there is a cacophony of beeps as everyone starts their watch. I went to change my display and may have actually hit the wrong button and stopped it. Doh. Took me until Fed Square, just under a kilometre, to realise and restart it. Consequently, it was out for the rest of the race in comparison to the kilometre markers. (But then so is everybody else's watches 😂😂)

Amanda: After a quick hello to Les on the bridge I told him I would seek him out at the start line with CJ’s pacing group. That was before I realised my nerves and those of my friend Danielle who was running her first marathon would play a part in not being able to find the warm clothing drop off! We must have passed those steps 3 times before we realised where to go. After the obligatory pre-race pit stop we walked to the start line, taking photos on our way. At the start line the crowd had built up and I could not get any further forward than the 4hr 10 pacers. The race started, I wished Danielle luck and felt bad that I left her immediately! I knew I would have to do some weaving in the first few kms to find Les and it took me about 2 minutes to get through the start line.

0 → 5 Kilometres

The plan here was to stay out of trouble, run to heart rate rather than pace, and keep CJ's pace group in sight for as long as I could, but to let them go ahead if my pace wasn't good enough. It wasn't, but I didn't stress. It was a beautiful morning, sunny and clear as forecast and St. Kilda Road had lots of spectators lining the paths as we ran south towards Albert Park. I was cruising here, not even looking at pace, only my HR showing on the watch, making sure I was still in my aerobic zone. I felt good, and apart from the occasional bit of jostling as we passed slower runners, it was a smooth trip down the road.
A few weeks before, chatting with friend Andrea, she teased me that if she caught me along the way she was going to pinch me on the arse. Sure enough, 2k in and arse rudely pinched! I tried to look round with concern and surprise, rather than the casual “Oh it's just you” that I might normally have done. Almost at the same time, Amanda caught up with me. She'd been further back at the start and had to work hard to catch me. But now she was there she settled into a pace along with me and we chatted about the run and what lay ahead for us.
The plan was to drink water at every stop having not drunk 90 minutes before the race. Missed the first aid station, it was pure chaos but got to the 2nd one okay. Noticed that Amanda stopped and deliberately downed her water, I grabbed mine and jogged through whereupon she would catch me after a few hundred metres. This pattern would continue for as long as we ran together.

In Albert Park, a sea of runners
(Photo credit: Amanda Lacey)

Amanda: I weaved in and out of the crowds at a much faster pace than planned, looking at everyone I passed hoping I would eventually see Les as I knew he was planning to start the first few kms at around 5.20 pace. I yelled to Sammi as I passed him spectating and generally felt good, the pace felt easy and I was enjoying the buzz of the event. I spotted a couple of DTR tops ahead and recognised Les’ tall frame and VUR Thir, so upped the pace to catch him. I said “I bet you didn’t think you would be seeing me” or words to that effect!
I don’t usually drink water at the first couple of aid stations, but I wanted to be smart after my dehydration disaster at SCC50 so took water from the first aid station and every one after. I couldn’t master the gulp and jog so took my time to stop, walk and drink. I think this tactic saved me as I wearied later in the race. I was happy to have caught Les, I knew I could now settle into a steady pace and see what would happen.

6 → 10 Kilometres

Turned into Albert Park, and the road widens, as well as the runners start running at different paces so that it thins out considerably. Somewhere along St. Kilda Road, Andrea must have passed me, so I slowly glided up behind her and pinched back! Man tucked in behind her immediately yells out, “wasn't me!”, much to our amusement.
Looking ahead, seeing the conga line of runners snaking their way through Albert Park was just brilliant. By now we have left the cover and enclosed feel of St. Kilda Road, and into the wide open space that is the park. The sun is slightly higher, the temperature whilst still cool is starting to warm up, and the first signs of sweat appear.
My first gel is consumed at the aid station 9k in. Vfuel Maple bacon flavour (unfortunately now discontinued…). This was roughly at 52 minutes by my watch, just a tad over the 45 minute intervals I had planned. Through the aid station, Amanda catches me again and we continue on our way. Caught a glimpse of the 3:40 pace group flags up ahead and was a bit surprised that they were within sight. Had fully prepared myself that we would not see them until onto Beaconsfield Parade.

Sneaky little pic Amanda took as we went through
Albert Park. (Photo credit: Amanda Lacey)

The course twists and turns and winds back on itself, so we were treated to the sight of all the faster runners in front, coming back past us. And then all the runners behind us when we turned. Amanda was in good spirits through here, chatting occasionally with me or others we knew along the way. We hadn't made any real plans other than run and see what happened, and through here we just ran at a comfortable pace, kept an eye on pace and effort, and genuinely enjoyed ourselves. I remember a sound system pumping out House of Pain's Jump Around as we ran past, and she ran with one hand in the air, swivelling the hips and singing along! Fab entertainment, making the journey very enjoyable.

Amanda: I always enjoy running around Albert Park Lake and tried to take a few photos as I was running, even getting a sneaky one of Les. I was about to take a selfie but it was affecting my pace, so it was back to business. I really enjoyed seeing everyone loop around ahead of me and behind me and kept looking for my friend Danielle. I missed her on the first loop but she yelled out to me on the second and looked to be travelling really well. It was so much fun yelling encouragement and exhausting on the lungs! I did love the music pumping and had a total compulsion to get into the moment and mini dance to Jump Around!!

11 → 15 Kilometres

My enduring memory of this section was the number of runners ducking off behind the first available bush/large tree or the one small toilet block at the back of Lakeside stadium! Streams of runners heading towards the said toilet, streams coming back out re-joining the throng. I'd taken on board some advice from a very experienced marathoner not to drink for 90 minutes before the race, and use every aid station to drink water. That alone prevented the mid-race urgent pee stop.
11k aid station was the usual chaotic free-for-all. Managed to grab a cup of water, avoid slamming into (or be slammed into), and got out as soon as I could.
Last hairpin turn at about the 12k mark was where we realised that CJ and group were only about 70 odd metres in front of us. We turned and ran back past the 11k aid station (was on the way past), and slowly reeled them in. Just as we ran under the banner marking our departure from Albert Park, we found ourselves as new members of the famed 3:40 bus. This was the cool kids' bus!
Turn into Fitzroy Street, crowds lined down all the way to Beaconsfield Parade, and then head right towards Bay Street and the turnaround.

Amanda: I took my first half of a GU gel and a swig of water about an hour in even though I didn’t feel I needed anything at that stage and I forced myself to repeat this every half hour and take a sip of the electrolyte I carried in my pack. We were still running well, it almost felt like we were cruising so it was a surprise when we found ourselves approaching CJ’s 3.40 pace group. Les said he was going to tuck in behind them for a while and I was happy to do the same.

16 → 20 Kilometres

I can safely say this was one of the best sections of the run for me. Relaxed, running easily at 5:10 pace, chatting with CJ, Amanda and some others in the pace group, it felt like you could run forever. Normally I have hated this section, and down to Elwood, as the long straight stretches of road play with you mentally. And previously, 2013 and 2015, I have had my meltdown along here. The remaining trudge back to the finish line nailing the lid on the coffin that was my race…
Lots of shout outs from friends along here, those in front, and after our turn at Bay Street, those behind. Every call gave you a lift, cut 10 seconds off your time!
Along here it was apparent how large the packs of runners were. You truly got the perspective of how large this race is.
Returning to St. Kilda was smooth sailing. CJ and his fellow pacer were marshalling the group well, the pace was spot on, and there were plenty of us following them. Periodically Amanda and I would drift apart, run 20 or so metres ahead of each other, but we were never more than that distance apart at any time.

Amanda: This was an awesome part of the race. We shared a great bit of banter with CJ and his popular pace group and it was nice chatting to Wayne and see that we were all travelling well. I was still running with Les at times and when one of us did drift ahead I knew he was never far away at this stage.

21 → 25 Kilometres

Approaching the halfway mark on Beaconsfield, and it was time to take stock of how I was going. HR was approaching 155 (slightly higher than I'd like, but not alarmingly so), legs felt good, no aches or pains in hip/lower back/feet etc. The sun was out, there was still plenty of chatter and enthusiasm.
21.1k banner approaches and passes. HALFWAY baby!!! Amanda immediately breaks out into Bon Jovi's Livin on a Prayer (Woah, we're halfway there, woah livin on a prayer...). Thanks, mate. Spent the next 3k ridding myself of that from the endless loop that was my brain. Back into St. Kilda and big crowds here, certainly bigger than the 2 previous times I've run this event. Things were going great, or so it seemed!
Just as we were climbing the slight rise adjacent to the pier, Amanda hit the deck! A runner, trying to get past her, moving right to left behind her to pass on the left clipped her heels and that was that. Thankfully he had the good grace to come back and help her get back up. I was a little way behind, so caught up as she was back on her feet and moving off again. A quick check of her hand and knees revealed all was okay and not to worry. So thankful that there was no damage.
It was once over this rise and bound for Elwood that I felt the effort to maintain proximity with the pace group was too early in the race. 23K's in, that is a comment that 4+ years ago would have made me laugh uproariously. Not so now, it was a calm and rational decision knowing there was still 19k to go, and a theoretical halfway point of a marathon is about the 34/35k mark, such is the difficulty the last 7k's present. I never mentioned to Amanda that I was throttling back. As we passed the next aid station, she caught up with me and we stayed together along here. Runners were thinning out, already some were walking, or stretching out tight calves/hammies/whatever.
Picked up my last gel, and a drink at the 24k aid station. I still had 1 in my back pocket from the stash I had from the start.

Amanda: Sorry, I could not resist breaking into song at the halfway mark. It had to be done! I’m not even a Bon Jovi fan haha!! Surprisingly all the serious runners around me didn’t seem to share my enthusiasm.
Les: No shit Sherlock! 😀
Amanda: This was one thing I noticed in this marathon compared to the first one I did at Melbourne, the faster pace group seemed a lot more serious to me. I loved running by the beach but the group got very closed in at this point. I was almost feeling claustrophobic and did all I could to create some space, which meant losing sight of my running buddies including Les for a time. I remember at a particularly crowded point I leaned my head down to drink some electrolyte when my heel got clipped and I flew superman-like to the ground. Luckily my hands took the brunt of it and just a little bang to my hip, but I was more worried about getting trampled, there were runners everywhere. The guy who tripped me came back and helped me up apologising. I accepted his apology begrudgingly, shaking from the shock, all the while thinking this could ruin my pace! I was surprised to see Les come up behind me, I was sure he was ahead and I’d lost him. Seeing him stopped me sooking and I got back to work. This is where the work really started and as Les stopped to pick up his gel I forged on knowing he would catch me soon. I remember I started counting at this stage just to keep my legs moving and any negative thoughts out. Whenever I saw someone I knew I’d cheer then start again 1,2,3…. I’d heard others do this and I was surprised that it worked, it kept me in the zone.

26 → 30 Kilometres

Turn at Elwood, the intersection of St. Kilda Street. This is where it starts to get tough for us. In many years past, the wind along here has been ferocious. Today, just a light zephyr. Enough to cool us in the warm morning air. By now we have been running for 2 hours 20, and in full sunlight and although it is getting warmer, it is still near perfect running conditions.
By now the 3:40 pace group is just a brief hint of a red flag in the distance. But Amanda and I are still chugging along. At various times we are 20, 30, 40 metres apart. Sometimes we are side-by-side. Not much chat now, just use oxygen for inflating the lungs powering the muscles.
My memories are a bit vague along here, other than noticing that people in front of me were already walking. Some stretching out cramps, others just looking like they'd gone out too hard and were now paying the price for that decision. It is often a rookie mistake, and one only learnt through bitter experience; I know, I've been there twice before.
Approaching St. Kilda, Amanda and I drew back together as we climbed past the pier again. Friend Christos Piplios was there, cycling around and supporting us. Nice to see a familiar face, and along here I had a few shout-outs for my DTR shirt. Don't know who you were, but thank you.

Amanda: Just like Les, I dug deep and just kept moving trying to maintain a good pace. Things started to feel better as we approached St Kilda and saw Christos, I was ready for a change of scenery.

31 → 35 Kilometres

Turn off Marine Parade, into Fitzroy Street, and the first climb back up towards the finish. Fitzroy always comes as a 'surprise' after the dead flat bay run. And it serves as a reminder that the fun is about to begin. At the aid station at the top of Fitzroy, bumped into Glenn from LTR. Knew he was having difficulties as I'd been slowly catching him since the 27k mark. Tap on the shoulder, a word of encouragement to keep him moving. Must have worked, he passed me back on The Tan.

So glad we got at least 1 photo together. 30k in, coming back up
Fitzroy Street looking focused and determined. 

Once again Amanda and I did our usual, she stopping to drink, me jogging through. She caught me soon after along St. Kilda Road and we shared the road for the next 2k's.
But soon after, it would be the last I would see of her until the finish line. The road climbs here, ever so gradually, but enough you know that it is not flat. She was clearly stronger. And although I was still running, and holding some sort of decent pace, it was no match for Amanda. I watched her slowly edge away from me. There was a brief moment of despair where I was sad that I couldn't stick with her, but in reality, we were 33k in, we'd set ourselves up for a great run and now it was just up to us to get it done.
St. Kilda Road has always represented my 'Hearts of Darkness' moment (the horror, the horror…), and it was along here that my thoughts threatened to turn negative. But each step still running kept me positive. It's horrible to take delight in passing others who are struggling up here, but the shoe was on the other foot previously and it was nice to be moving through the pack. Andrea came past me along here, not that much faster, but enough to leave me behind. We always play cat and mouse on our runs; never the same pace for much, just back and forth!
I had my first sign of cramp here. Right lower quad started to get tight, that crampy feeling increasing. Grabbed the Crampfix from the back pocket (Another tip, leave short pockets partially unzipped. Not enough for things to fall out, enough to get your fingers in to pick items out without having to find the zip and move it mid-run) and took 20ml. The feeling subsided, thankfully.
Metro trams trundled past, tempting many (and some considering the DQ's uncovered by race organisers) as we approached the Arts Centre. Turning at the Arts Centre is always a challenge as we merge with the half-marathoners, and the jostling with the different speeds becomes an issue. Not sure how the organisers are going to deal with this, but every year it is an issue.

Amanda: This is where I was most grateful to be running with Les, I was starting to tire and I know my pace would have slowed down if I’d been on my own. I pushed through to stay with him and I was ready for my walking break at the aid station. It gave me the reset I needed for the rest of the race. I started enjoying the run up St Kilda Road. I remember how much I loved this section in my first marathon with all the crowds supporting and also running with the half marathoners. I was looking around cheering on familiar faces, giving encouragement to those who looked like they were struggling, I had found a new spring in my step. At some point, I looked around to talk to Les but I couldn’t see him. I felt sad about this but I knew I just had to keep moving and would just have to rely on my own motivation. I did this by thinking about my Comrades goal next year and that finishing this in a good time would give me a better starting point for that gun time race.

36 → 40 Kilometres

Under St. Kilda Road and heading for The Tan. This is where the MCG is in view, but we are turned back to run a few climbs. First timers are dealt a blow, you think you are just heading for home, only to realise there is still more to do.
My final personal drinks pick up was a bit unusual, and a bit of a last minute piece of inspiration. A double shot black coffee, necked on the spot at the 36k aid station on the lower section of Birdwood Avenue. Physically it didn't do a lot, but mentally it sharpened me up for the final push home. I was also still in good spirits knowing that I had two lovely and close friends waiting at the top of The Tan handing out Zooper Doopers to runners. Chrissy and Michelle had volunteered to do this, neither running (Chrissy still in rehab), but loving being on course, close to the runners.
As I approached Domain Road, I could hear Chrissy's voice, rounded the corner and saw her beaming smile as she spotted me. Huge hug, a few words exchanged, hug Michelle then push on. It was fantastic seeing them, raised the spirits even more.
Down Domain, then we were turned back into The Tan again as Domain Road was closed due to Metro tunnel works. Another brief climb (okay, had enough now…), then we were finally descending back to St. Kilda Road for one last time. Plenty of runners coming up in the opposite direction, many doing it tough. I was running down thinking that all my hill work in the Dandenongs had actually paid off.
And then finally, finally back onto St. Kilda Road

Back on Flinders Street, and doing it tough.

Amanda: This was struggle time for me. I knew it was coming, it was no surprise and I knew I would see Chrissy and Michelle around here, it just seemed to take forever to get to them! I actually had to stop short here feeling faint, so took some gel, water and electrolyte then got moving again. Someone I had chatted to earlier in the race who had run SCC100 checked I was ok (sorry I can’t recall your name Les: Jonathon Ennis-King) and we played a little tag team for a while before he went on ahead. He said the 100km race had helped him with endurance but he was running a bit slower than in previous marathons and he was happy with that. Seeing him so comfortable reminded me how much of this is a mind game and I pushed on, in a much happier place by the time I saw Chrissy and Michelle, grabbing my zooper dooper and giving them sweaty hugs (sorry!) before heading off to the fun part.

Home Sweet Home!

By now, my pace has bled back to high 5, nearly 6 minute/k. I'm passing runners, but just as many are passing me. Big crowds again at Fed Square, the sun shining, photographers aplenty on Flinders Street. The final climb (as such, it's really gentle) and I just gritted the teeth and got it down.
Worst was turning down Wellington. Quads were on fire and running felt ungainly. Probably looked it as well!

Okay, not that tough if I can smile and thumbs up!

Ran through the last aid station, at 41k mark I couldn't see the point really… Turn into Jolimont, then Bunton Avenue, the G looming larger than life, crowds lining the roads cheering yelling encouragement. Saw a few friends along here, gave me a lift, and geez I needed it.
And then turn to head into the G.
It's a cavernous stadium, in reality. And such a long friggin way round to the finish line. For the past couple of k's I'd been trying to estimate my finish time, given I'd stuffed up my watch, I really was only guessing. Knowing that 3:45 had passed me by, I was thinking 3:48/3:49. I was close. As I approached, 3:50 ticked over, then 3:51. I could hear loud voices behind me, and suddenly realised the 3:50 pace group was bearing down on me. Picked it up, and pushed hard to get over the line.
Gun time 3:51:06. Later I was to find out my net time was 3:50:14. But I was very happy. Strong run, all the way, no massive crash and burn and the long run/walk odyssey that follows this year.
Staggered around for a bit. Physically spent, mentally right out of it. I had a brief moment of low blood pressure; light-headedness, tingly feeling in hands and legs. It passed thankfully. Then I spotted Andrea and Amanda. Huge hug with Amanda, I was so pleased to hear she had smashed her PB. A bit of an emotional moment, we'd shared the road for so long, kept each other honest, run great races, and most importantly we had thoroughly enjoyed it.
What a day!

Amanda powering to the finish line on Jolimont.
(Photo credit: Amanda Lacey)

Amanda: I absolutely loved this part, I was passing lots of runners again and was happy to have a passing chat with a man wearing a Comrades top – he was full of enthusiasm telling me what a special race it is. I was excited to see Connie pass me, I didn’t recognise her immediately then we had brief chat before she took off looking so strong. My legs were moving well, though heavy and not quite as fast as I’d have liked. It was brilliant seeing friends to my left, to my right, hearing my name and seeing Matty and Tiana, Dee and Alex, Shaun and the VUR crew and a high five from Nicole, so many people and then we were running into the MCG. I hadn’t got to finish my first marathon here so I was so excited. It was definitely not a sprint finish but I finished strongly, I noticed the clock said 3:48:29 but I knew my net time was less - 3:46:42, an 11 minute PB! I hung around the finish line, trying to stop the wobbles and waiting for Les to come in. I was also hoping to also see Danielle finish. Shared congratulatory hugs with CJ and LTR friends. I missed Danielle finishing but was happy when I saw she had finished her first marathon soon after in a great time. I gave Les a big hug as he finished, we were both so happy to have run such a good race, it was a great team effort and I will always be so grateful.

Danielle and Amanda. (Photo credit: Amanda Lacey)

Post Race Get Together

Walk ungainly down the ramp to collect the medal with Amanda. Bumped into Glen from Lysty, pleased to hear he'd picked it up and finished. It was down here I bumped into another Lysty runner Connie. She looked at me and then grimaced, pointing at my shirt. I had the ol bleeding nipple! Just one side, but I'd not felt a thing… finish line photos were going to be interesting then.
Necked the rest of the Crampfix and hoped that was all I needed. Happy to report, no cramps after the race. Makes a nice change.
Met friend Josie, she'd paced the 1:50 half-marathon group. We'd organised to meet for coffee afterwards and thoughts were to get out of there asap.
Amanda and I grabbed a selfie, bubbling over with excitement and happiness after the race. Emotions in overdrive.
The final inglorious bastard act was the ramp up out of the carpark from the bag drop area, then the stairs up to the pedestrian ramp over to Rod Laver Arena. Took an eternity.

What worked, What Didn't

2013, the meltdown really starts at 26k 

2015, the meltdown actually starts at 15k, but hits death zone levels at 32k.

2017, no meltdown. Just the gradual slowdown after 33k.

Looking at the 3 images above, the comparison between my 3 attempts at Melbourne is quite clear. Ignoring the difference in the Y-axis (pace), the consistent line for this year up to the 32/33k mark is very heartening. As much to do with starting slow, having Amanda beside me, then slotting casually in behind CJ's pace group, all had a bearing. Moral of the story, start slow and build.
This year I had a specific hydration and plan and really, more importantly, I followed it. 4 Vfuel gels, sports drink at 24, and the coffee at 36 all worked. Going caffeine free worked too, and I will look at using this in future events (not just the marathon).
Running with a friend. Now that is something I've never really done before. Always tended to run my own race, my own pace. I'll use runners ahead of me to assess how I'm going, and if possible catch them. But then I'll pass and move onto the next one. But having someone close by to chat, and shoot the shit, so to speak, was invaluable in keeping me grounded and focused. And Amanda was genuinely great company.
Not much I can think of that didn't work, other than using something to hold my gels and CrampFix. Back pocket felt like it was bulging, and got annoying around the 20k mark. Other than that, all went well.

Nice to catch up with Chrissy and Michelle after the run.
(Photo credit: Chrissy Good)

Next race, Eureka Climb. Nothing else for 2017, then Two Bays 56k in January 2018.

Until next time...

Take It There

Melbourne, Spring: plastic wrap from building sites flutter like orphaned kites in the trees on King Street, discarded coffee cups and detritus swirl in eddies in the endless laneways and alleys, and everyone huddles deeper into hooded overcoats to escape the lazy wind. It is supposed to be warming up, the earth resuming its tilt northwards again, yet the season reminds us that winter is not yet finished in this part of the world.

View on the way back to Anglesea from the south
(Photo courtesy of Surf Coast Century)

With this in mind, we make our way south towards Anglesea for Surf Coast Century 2017 (SCC), the talk invariably steers towards the weather. The rain of the week leading up has churned the trails up. Normally reliably dry well-drained tracks will be muddy, a section of a muddy 4WD track is not looked on with much favouritism at all (indeed organisers divert the course after deeming it too rough and unsafe). SCC in early September is not exactly zinc cream and boardies, but it shouldn't be thick beanies, fluffy hooded coats and thermals either.

I finally ran here last year after 2 previous aborted attempts (both through injury, both from rolled ankles, predictably on both feet), being the second half of a team with Chrissy and I running our first ultras. (read here). Schedule and course change for the solo 50 this year made it very enticing indeed to return. A respectable 10:00am start, and on the same course as legs 3 & 4 where the 100k runners also go through. Added bonus meant that because of the mass start at Anglesea, we didn't have to crawl under the bridge on the Great Ocean Road like the 100k and teams runners (apologies to those, did it last year, know how undignified it really is). Being injured and not running at the start of the year meant that it was going to be a close run thing to get myself prepared for the 50. Through good planning, a comprehensive rehab programme, some astute decision making re running returns and good ol lady luck, I managed to get myself to the start line at Maroondah Dam in April for the first race in the 30k Mountain series. It was an ugly and tough start, my body not really fit and strong enough to cope with the climbing and descending. I was battered and mentally a bit fragile afterwards, but knew it was all part of the journey of the comeback.

Armed with a strength and conditioning plan from my gym at work, and a more targeted running programme to deal with my longer working days, I set about pushing forward to SCC. A month out from the race (and a fortnight out from my lead-up at Wonderland) I ran in the Dandenongs, tacking on another few k to the group run to help prepare me. A run with Vic Ultra Runners from Warburton to Lilydale in early July had also been crucial in getting my endurance back up to scratch. All in all, I thought I was ready. Cue winter head cold the day after Dandies run. Always inevitable this time of year. It wasn't particularly bad, I could run, up to the point it went to my chest, but was never floored by it. Nevertheless, it impacted my training, my health and fitness, and arrested the momentum I had building up to the race, as well as denting the mental positives. Undeterred, I felt I was still in good shape and looked forward to the race.

Things went pear shaped fairly early, as they do. I'm not going to blame the cold, lingering but pretty much gone by race day, or any other issues, other than it just wasn't happening on the day. The following is a bit of a rough guide to my race;

Amanda, myself and Belle yaking before the start
(Photo credit: Samantha Wilson)

Race Day

Alarm set for 7 (how luxurious is that for an ultra start?). Turned phone on and immediately get a notification of a missed call only 5 minutes earlier from friend Caz running the first leg in a relay team. Thinking, “Oh shit, what's happened”, I calmly text back enquiring if everything's okay. Within a minute Caz calls back “Fucking hate this sand, fucking hate these slippery rocks, fucking hate being held up behind runners!!” Pause…. “Just wanted to vent, see ya” And terminates the phone call. People unfamiliar with Caz may think this was a bit wrong, but it made me laugh knowing her as I do. I also probably thought it's nice to know my day might not be that bad. Whoops...

Despite the relaxed start, I was late getting to the start and getting dressed/prepared/focused. Shit, shit, and double shit. Nothing like a bit of mild stress beforehand. Met Chris Spano, who was going to crew for me, and his mate Nick before we headed down to the beach for the start.

Bumped into 4 friends, 3 of whom were all running their first ultras, Michelle Acorn, Michelle Harris, Amanda Lacey the first timers, and the battle hardened Hoka evangelist Belle Campbell, a fave and inspirational trail running friend of mine. Hugs, greetings, a bit of banter with them and a number of others before the countdown and then we were off.

Race Start

Beach start in bright sunshine and a brisk breeze, run 100m to a flag then back through the start arch with the public lined up the cheer us through. Always gets the adrenaline pumping. Within 400 metres though we had to cross an inlet to get to the northern side and the path. My plan was just to barrel through, as it was for 90% of the field. Several others opted to stop, peel off shoes and socks, wade through only to redress on the other side. Each to their own I thought, although considering my shoes and socks were dry within several k's wondered at that wisdom. (And there was more mud and water further on)

Annette and Michelle Harris at the start.
(Photo credit: Samantha Wilson)

First few k's uneventful. Passed eventual women's 100k winner Kylee Woods about 2k in. Poor thing having to trot uphill as the main pack of 50's streamed past. The 100k started at 5:30 am, Kylee, having been running for just over 4 and a half hours, but still looking good (she would eventually catch and pass me when my troubles started).

The first section of the course is a mixture of road and trail, the really sweet single trail not starting until after the 10k mark. Passed a fellow Lysterfield Trail Runner (LTR) Lee Edison as he was walking up the first major climb. Polite enquiry revealed he was not going well. Just said to him to hang in there, still enough time for things to come good, and I continued on.

Along one of the trails had a peek behind to see Belle not that far behind on a climb, thinking she was going to have a good day. Amanda was not too far behind with the Michelles just behind her.

The trails along here were resplendent in floral blooms of Common Heath, aka Epacris impressa. The red bell shaped flowers were in full display as we ran past. Interestingly, it was proclaimed the floral emblem of Victoria on 11 November 1958, the state being the first in Australia to give official recognition to such an emblem. See, you can learn things reading my blog. It's not all fart jokes and pop culture references!

Approaching the 3k climb to (?), I started to notice my heart rate spiking and the slow loss of energy in my body. I was expecting this, but not until at least somewhere near the 40k mark. Immediately stopped, had a gel, ate some food and that helped, but pretty soon I was feeling fatigued again.
Was passed by a huge group of 50k runners, and some team relay runners on the climb up to the trig point, a few of whom I followed into the first aid station.

Distillery Creek

The place was buzzing. Met Chris, time on my watch about 2:20, 10 or 15 behind where I expected to be, but I wasn't worried unduly. Although Chris asked me how I was and my reply elicited his reply of “that's not comforting!” Clearly, my mood and demeanour were written all over my face.

Yuckkkk, clean those bottles out Les!
(Photo credit: Chris Spano)

The section between Distillery and Moggs is my least favourite. Last year I struggled badly on this section, this year no different. It climbs quite a bit from the dam on the creek. It was here that Kylee passed me back, powering up hills that I was walking. Such an unassuming person, she was just getting the job done, was great to see. Not long after Lee came passed me. Seems a heated phone call with his wife as to which aid station to meet him at was just the tonic to spur him on! I have since been offered her phone number. Reluctant to take up that offer…

Moggs Creek (Party Central)

Coming into Moggs Creek we could hear the aid station from nearly 2k out. When you are really feeling the heat, that sound is the best. And I should have known it would be noisy being staffed by good friend Ali and her husband Jamie, it was the party central of SCC 2017! A huge hug from Ali, questions about my health, how I was going and what food I needed. All was going well until I handed over my squeezy drink bottle for a refill and she spied the black mould growing in the tube. The attached photo is priceless.

Saw Chris again, didn't change shoes as I thought my trails were doing fine. A few quick words, check my watch, 30 minutes off the pace but thoughts of a time were far, far gone by this point. It was survival pace and get it finished.

Heading out of Moggs, the trail once again climbs. This section surprised me last year, didn't quite expect this climb here. By now there are quite a few teams relay runners streaming through, very fresh and energetic having just left the aid station. Friend Drew came flying past on his leg 4 run, quick hello as we crossed paths. Closely followed by eventual 2nd place woman Nicole Paton, pushing well up the hills, but our brief discussion revealed she was REALLY looking forward to seeing the end of them! Weren't we all.

Some friends came to crew and cheer The Michelles and
Annette along. I missed all of this!
(Photo credit: Samantha Wilson)

I found this section the hardest. It was where I really started to cramp in places, it climbs, descends, climbs again, then has a fairly steep (but mercifully short) descent just before Aireys. It was along one of the climbs near the water treatment works that my hammy and my glute both cramped, not hard but it made my leg do weird things. Rather than swing directly through its normal arc, it wanted to veer wildly to the left. Several steps later it subsided, but left me wondering whether it was proving Newtons 2nd law, or making a mockery of it. The final steep descent to Aireys was where my right hammy cramped so hard I came to a shuddering stop. Full stretch on the side of the road, then off again. Final hill on the way to Aireys, another stunning cramp, this time calf… You know things aren't going great when you start talking to major muscle groups!

Above and beyond the normal call of vollies.
A well-timed hug from Vanessa at Aireys
(Photo credit: Bich Jennings)

The climb under the bridge at Aireys is not as legendary as at Anglesea, but for 100k runners it is probably the final straw. Bouldering sideways, trying desperately not to cramp and fall back into the shallow water really gets the adrenalin going. Followed 2 runners under here, all 3 of us laughing nervously, geeing one another along. A steep climb to the footpath, then run into the aid station. Footpath follows the main road, a car driving past has people hanging cow bells out the window, people yelling my name. Didn't recognise the car, or see who it was, but it helped lift me as I ran in.

Aireys Inlet

Never have I been so relieved to get to an aid station. I was travelling okay, could have been a lot worse, but I needed to see friends and get replacement electrolytes into my system. Friends Vanessa and Bich were volunteering here (after sweeping leg 1 in the morning, hats off ladies), and I received the biggest hugs from both. Was a bit overwhelmed, asking what I wanted, telling me I was doing fine etc. etc. A quick chat with Chris, I didn't need anything else, I was struggling, but still going okay. Drink bottle refilled, hug from friend Caz who had appeared out of nowhere (or so it seemed, she and friend Kirsten were in the car ringing cow bells!) and off I went again.

The section along here to the finish is about 14k, give or take a few hundred metres, mostly undulating, but with spectacular views. I walked to the top at the base of the lighthouse, shedding a silent tear, as much from my emotions going into overdrive after being at the aid station. So grateful to have such wonderful friends keep me going. Most of the trail here was a blur to me, most of my endearing memories are of trying to keep pace with other runners, stopping to massage out cramps, ignoring the pleas of the photographer on the uphill to 'run for the photo' (yeah, whatever….), and generally getting my mental state positive.

And for this last one, I just remembered that there were friends of mine not running today, actually unable to run at all at the moment. Chrissy and Chris Langmead, both on the long and torturous road of rehab, Chris well underway, Chrissy just starting. So the mantra started, “Chrissy and Chris”. Whenever things got low, I just repeated this, helped me pick it up and get moving again. 

Around the 45k mark the trail meanders through Mellaluca forest, saplings close to the side cut off about 10 cm above the ground, just the right height for a swinging foot to collect and set off the most electrifying of cramps in my left calf. Sweet mother of God that hurt. I could see the calf pulsing as it contorted, relaxed, contorted again. Spent about a minute massaging, then slowly walking before it behaved itself again.

Dropped down to Urqhuarts Beach at the 45k mark. Along here is 3 1/2k of sand. High tide was at 2:00pm, and I was along here at around 3:45. The sand was soft and spongy in places, but the worst is you can see right the way along to the get-off point, the full horror of the next 20+ minutes revealed in alls its leg shattering reality.

A couple of 100k runners came behind, trying to gee me up and run with them, but all I could do along here was run as far as possible, walk when the cramps hit, count a minute on the watch and then run again. As tough as it was getting, I was okay mentally. Probably relishing the internal mental battle I was having, as well as knowing I was nearing Anglesea where icy cold beer awaited me.

Eventual 4th place women Cecile climbed up the stairs off the beach with me. She was proposed to by her boyfriend at the finish line, that being the 2nd best feeling of the day. #1 probably being getting off that sodding beach! Then a long slow grind up a dirt road. By now we are getting glimpses of houses on the outskirts of Anglesea and there is a steady stream of runners coming through.

One last climb, then down we run past the surf club, and onto the beach where we first started over 6 hours ago. Running along the beach, Trish Yates screaming out my name, giving me a hi 5 before I turned back towards the finish line. As I approached the finish, crowds were lining both sides of the path, clapping and cheering; I felt like a rock star. If only I hadn't cramped 50 metres out, I might have actually looked like one...

Anglesea, and the finish line

Finally, after 6 hours and 24 minutes, I crossed the finish line, a rueful smile on my face thinking about the day I'd just had. Greeted by friends, medal draped over my neck, I was in pain from the effort and cramping, but I was glad I'd stuck it out when it got really tough.

It only took me a few minutes to realise how cold it was. Shivering and feeling very uncomfortable I found my gear bag and started to get changed into something warm. It took me several goes as first Belle finished, then Amanda, then Michelle Acorn. I kept getting up to great them, go back and get another item Belle had spent most of the race battling gamely with ITB issues, surely some of the worst pain to deal with in a race. Amanda had been ill, cramped and nearly pulled out at Moggs, but continued on like me and toughed it out. Michelle Acorn had the run of her life. Finally dispelling all the mental demons and putting together a perfectly executed race, finishing in 7 hrs.

Michelle Acorn and I at the finish. So proud and happy for her after a great run.

Post Race, the wash-up

So, first time cramping in 2 years. What does it tell me? Probably time to rethink nutrition and hydration for these events. I've been using Tailwind and occasional supplement with gels, but recently have felt the taste of the Tailwind has prevented me getting enough in during an event. I had a cold the month leading up, whilst not bad, it may have had some bearing, but I'm not willing to admit that completely. It was warmer than I anticipated. Showering that night I was horrified at the amount of sweat that came out of my hair, and although I'm a 'healthy' sweater, this was slightly out of the ordinary.

Will I come back? Halfway through the race I was “Never doing another ultra again”, “Stuff this for a joke” etc. After a few days, I'm already plotting a return campaign for next year! But the day wasn't a complete loss. It is still my fastest 50k time, mentally I was able to use strategies to keep going, and every time I complete one of these I improve from the one before. It's all a learning path, we never truly know it all, never truly find our upper limits. Indeed, as I type this on my laptop on a Wednesday afternoon on the train home, a friend is two-thirds through a 320km running odyssey in France, with 24000 metres of climbing thrown in. He's been running since late Sunday our time, still with 100k to go. The mind is truly a beautiful thing if it can help sustain a physical entity through such a journey.

Finally, well done to all who ran 100, 50, teams, crewed, volunteered, and organised Surf Coast Century 2017. It was a wonderful event. I would particularly like to thank Chris Spano for following me around at all the check points, Ali Moxham, Vanessa Hueser and Bich Jennings for the personalised support at the aid stations, Chris J and his family for having me at the most excellent of digs for the weekend with Ash, and Caz for friendship, entertainment and banter. Finally to my wife Nicky for having to put up with my borderline obsession with running, thank so much xx

Winners are grinners! And check who's already got post race beverage in hand 😀

Until next time...