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...