As Cheryl and Caroline passed me on the descent (I had passed them both on the slight climb beyond where the medium course runners had split off), they both said "See you on the next climb". I replied to both "Sure thing", or something similar, and watched the sure-footed ponies fly down the trail. I was a bit tentative here, an ankle injury on a steep descent last year had dented my confidence. It was slowly returning, but the slips and slides after The Pinnacle had resurfaced old doubts.
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DTR at the start, all smiles, and raring to go.
(Photo credit: Peter Mitchell) |
I mentally switched gears, started to assess how I was going; strong climb to The Pinnacle, controlled but pushing the effort. I was well placed for a sub 4:30 finish. Quick check of the average HR, 152, quite good considering the climb. Rounded a corner, and the trail surface changed from a tan brown, rocky cover, to a predominately black soil, loose leaves scattered across it. The soil change marked a dramatic change in the forest type, lush, greener. I was taking this in, watching both women disappearing into the bush on the trail ahead, when WHAM, went over on my right ankle. Felt the pain, felt a pop in the ATFL, heard a cracking noise, and knew my race was well and truly fucked. Let out one mighty string of swear words. First thought after was, "There goes Melbourne Marathon", second thought, "Not going to finish this epic race", third was, "Fuck me, not again, second year running...".
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LTR groupie (group selfie?)
(Photo credit: Chris Johnstone) |
The tears didn't come then, that would be later, privately, outside the First Aid tent, alone and left to my bitter thoughts. Stopped on the trail, and did the classic trail runners thing. Can I keep running, is it really that bad? 10 steps later I stopped; lateral stability was dodgy, but the pain and the sudden onset of swelling told me the truth, and reality of the situation. A runner went past as I was taking off my pack. He probably thought I was standing there adjusting kit etc. I betrayed no emotion to him, just trying to get on top of everything, make a sensible decision. Apart from knowing where I had run from, I had no idea what was ahead. A friend from PTR, Pitty McAdams, had stopped at the Salomon race last year when I injured my ankle. Ironically, he was one of the first to stop, and offer condolences. We discussed what I was going to do. I had passed an aid station about 2k's previously and thought I should at least aim for that. Other runners stopped, people I didn't know, just other concerned runners.
I started to put a compression bandage on, and was just about to head back, when a vollie came up the track to grab me. An aid station was just around the corner. He walked me down as other runners came down the track. DTR's Dylan and Richard (the former not having a great day to that point, the latter having an absolute shocker, both would persevere and finish), stopped to inquire, not much they could do. Thankfully at the aid station, the proprietor of the tourist park in Halls Gap was available to take me back to the finish line. So, despite my misfortune, I was at first aid within 30 minutes of my accident. That has helped considerably with recovery.
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Stony Creek. Following Peter Mitchell for a time towards The Pinnacle. Running well, climbing well,
I was enjoying the race through here. (Photo credit: Matilda Iglesias) |
Assessment, treatment, friendly counselling, then I was left to sit outside in the sun, and await my friends to finish. At that stage the finish area was very quiet, still at least 10 minutes before the first of the 20k runners was due to finish. It was here, in the sun, alone with my thoughts, that the tears flowed. As I said before, privately, no-one around to witness it. Above all else, I was annoyed about doing this 2 years running. The cry helped, I finished, wiped my eyes and resigned myself to what had happened, and then felt fairly calm and composed.
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Spotted the photographer, camouflaged
against the surrounding rock. Too good to
resist! (Photo credit: Matilda Igelsias) |
One-by-one friends finished, and came to see me, concerned, some saying how it had put a dampener on their day. But mostly they came to offer support, and I was touched by that more than anything else. Endless offers of coffee (if I accepted every one, I would have been jittery as all hell!), bacon and egg rolls, warm jackets. I was approached by other runners, not friends, but comrades of the trail, concerned and consoling, many saying how they had near misses, and reckon there were plenty of places were they could have come unstuck. Kudos to the female runner who thanked me for, in her words, "taking one for the team!". It was said in jest, I took it as such, and agreed that it could have been anyone. Some of my friends specialise in mandatory spills in trail races, I specialise in ankles. The universe is trying to tell me something, I am deaf to it!
I watched as the stream of people ebbed and flowed from the first aid tent, it would have made a fascinating time lapse film. Many busted ankles, lots of scrapes and abrasions, talk of somebody on course with a head injury, a busted tooth. The technicality of the trail was being realised by many. After a period of time, a largish group formed around me at the side of the tent, an enclave of love and support. Amazingly, many runners heard of my injury on course, the trail running telegraph alive and well. Still don't know who passed on the info., but I'm slightly embarrassed that would happen on my behalf.
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Outside the medical tent with the crew. Despite my shit day, this was a lovely time with great friends.
(Photo credit: Cheryl Martin) |
Eventually it was time to leave, and hobble back to the accommodation. Sad to leave the finish line in such a way, although I was in a fair degree of pain and wanted to get some rest elsewhere. But I was happy in the knowledge that I had run in the best ever God-damn 9.2 k event in the Grampians! Maybe next year I will return and do 4 times that distance to finish, and get the bling! Who am I kidding, of course I will return, try and stop me. And yet another race that with be hash tagged #redemption for the next 12 months.
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Summit selfie: Took a few moments to deviate off course
for this pic. Totally worth it. |
Post script: Visit to physio reveals positive news. Apart from a slight tear in the ATFL, the lack of pain when walking means I can commence rehab immediately, with a view to returning to running sooner than expected. Just need to manage the next 48 or so hours to not go overboard. And Melbourne still achievable if all goes well. Happier days ahead.
A huge thank you to Matilda Iglesias for permission to use some of the over 2500 photos she and her partner took for the event over the weekend of the 29th, and 30th of August. Please check out her blogs at
www.runmum.com/, and
www.lovemicreations.com/
All photos were free to all, if in any way you can patronise Matilda's business, or pay for hi-res images from the event, please do so.
Until next time....
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Stony Creek: Exhibit A in the case of Crossley versus The Workers Compensation Board of Victoria!
Some people had far too much energy, and ingenuity, but they left us with some fabulous race photos.
Thanks to Louise Crossley for permission to user her image. (Photo credit: Matilda Iglesias) |
