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...

Fitter Happier

Another Wonderland race completed, another bright shiny medal to go with the other bright shiny medals in my collection.
But this race is more than just bling collection. Run by Rohan Day, Michael Clarke and Matt Bell (through the Big Long Run company), the attention to detail, the support of the runners and vollies, the vibe that is created and the area it is held in (the magnificent Halls Gap and Grampian Mountains area in Victoria), make this a must do event. But be warned, it's not for the faint hearted. The 36k (with a little extra...) goes over Mt. Rosea, and the rock scrambling in places will slow the progress, max out the quads and hammies, and batter you before the long flat sections on the Bellfield run home. Every year I turn up knowing that when I finish I will wish I had trained harder and more specifically for the event. And this year? No different.

An outstanding view on our climb up to The Pinnacle. (Photo credit: Caz Derby)

Friday Night

Got a lift up with Matt and Caz. road trips to races are usually uneventful affairs, get on the road, make sure the car and occupants are fueled and in good shape. This trip not exactly so. Stopped at the BP Ballan, bain-marie and Maccas being to only options available. Caz, having to watch her diet for particular foodstuffs, opted for a Maccas without onion and potato cakes. The best of a bad lot. Unfortunately, they didn't agree with her. The 3 of us were sleeping in bunks, at 2:30 in the morning I was woken up by Caz telling me she was unwell and going for a walk. Half asleep I briefly wondered why walking might help, then fell asleep again. Woke up the next morning to find Caz asleep on the couch having been up half the night vomiting. Whoops... Sorry mate. Thankfully it was food related, rather than good ol' gastro.

Saturday

Volunteers get into the spirit of the weekend. Jacqui, Tony,
and Sue on Saturday (Photo credit: Warwick King)

The weekend is more than just my race. In an acknowledgment of the fact many families make the 3hr trek from Melbourne (and a few more from elsewhere) to Halls Gap, there are 2k and 8k races on the Saturday for the kids and adults not crazy enough to take on the 20 or 36 on the Sunday. the Saturday, setting up the start/finish, and then handing out finishers medals (my absolute favourite vollie role). Getting to hand out medals is great in that I get to meet so many runners, many of them friends, but also to see many first timers complete their first race, and first trail race. Watching the kids run the 2k event is fantastic, so many enthusiastic children with supportive and positive parents.
Interestingly though, there are a number of runners who double up with races. Either the 2 and the 8 on Saturday, the 8 on Saturday and the 20 on Sunday, or if truly really keen, the 8 and 36 double! I elected to help Volunteer on

One of my fave friends ran on Saturday
(Photo credit: Tan Marie)

Unfortunately, the weather wasn't kind to us on the Saturday, as the rain and cold hung around and then finally engulfed the area in the mid afternoon. But still it was held in good spirits, most if not all realising it is winter, it is the Grampians, weather like this is always to be expected.
The rest of the afternoon spent back at the accommodation with Paul from Baw Baw Runners watching the Wallabies nearly spring a surprise on the All Blacks in the rugby, only for the wretched bastards to score a try with 3 minutes left. Oh well, run angry tomorrow I thought.

Sunday

Last year, the weather was atrocious. On the Saturday night the wind blew, the rain poured, and we all probably awoke at some point and what the hell we'd got ourselves in for. The Sunday dawned calmer but the rain persisted and it will go down as a very wet and cold run. Roll forward a year and the weather overnight is similar. Wind, rain in buckets, but thankfully the day dawned clear and cold, with the promise of a mainly fine day.

Mandatory gear check before the start with
Matt Bell (Photo credit: Kim Day)

Having secured a house close to the start line, Paul and I packed our gear and walked down to the start area to drop bags off for safe keeping and get ready for a 7:00am start. As happens at these races, they turn into a massive social event. Meeting many friends and acquaintances, and people I know through Facebook and running forums. Pushed my way into the starting chute, nervous banter and laughter from all of us. Moved forward to catch up with a few other Dandenong Trail Runners (DTR), and decided to stay there in the first wave of runners going out. This is reserved for those of us who think they will be doing a faster time. Last year I deliberately held back to the 2nd wave, knowing full well my interrupted training plan was going to leave me struggling on the climbs. This year I was confident, the training had been consistent, and I had run plenty of hills and long runs to get me through.
Finally, the countdown came, the horn went off, and the first wave went on it's merry way. First few k's have bottlenecks, single track that is impossible to pass, with a couple of sharp climbs that slow runners much like traffic slows near an accident. I was followed along here by Karl and Andrew of DTR, and Karl and I chatted about how we were both running Surf Coast Century in 13 days (13 days! Sheeeet… ). He the 100, me the 50. And many other runners were also going to backup in 13 days time. For all us, getting through unscathed was likely to be target #1. Once the trail widened out and the runners started to sort themselves out, we could run patches, walk others and generally make solid progress towards The Pinnacle. Chatting to and passing a few runners (my climbing was on point for the day), made for a nice climb to the first peak. It was uneventful, or so it seemed.

Every year I wonder why it takes me 30 minutes to get to The Pinnacle.
Every year I see these photos and understand why.
(Offical event photography: SuperSport Images)

As we approached the Pinnacle, a droning sound became evident. Bec Howes husband Steve, was flying his drone and taking video of the runners as we climbed and continued on our way to Sundial carpark. There was quite the crowd up here, people heading on to the viewing platform for selfies and group photos, the rest of us heading along the trail. It was here that disaster (or so I thought at the time) struck. The trail goes towards the base of the viewing platform then turns right at 90 degrees. I had peeled slightly right to take a different line, turned my left foot to take the next step when the foot just slipped and shot out behind me. I plummeted face first towards the granite, only just getting my hands down in time to break my fall. Nothing like kissing the rock at speed! All seemed okay, even though my left knee had clattered into the rock. Stood up, Karl asked if I was okay, said I was, and we descended on the trail. A quick look at my knee revealed a nasty gash, blood flowing supremely down towards my shoe. I was shattered, to say the least, more so thinking of SCC50 rather than this race. But after a few minutes of running there was no pain at all, only the feeling of the open wound and the warm blood seeping out.
We strode on, Karl and Andrew still with me as we passed Sundial (the first of several aid stations), then ran on to where the 20k runners split left, and we 36'ers headed right to Rosea carpark. I was finding it very comfortable along here, chatting with Karl about SCC and other running related stuff. It passed the time. Ran over 'my spot' where I achieved the dubious honour of being the only runner ever to complete the unadvertised Wonderland 10k event in  2015 (read here). Hit Rosea carpark aid station. Friend and DTR Warwick was volunteering here, encouraging us and taking photos as we passed through. Beyond the road is the start of the climb to Rosea, winding single track that steadily climbs enough that the walk/run strategy is in place. Stopped along here for my first gel and Karl and Andrew ran ahead. By the time we hit the rocky climb to the summit, I'd caught them and Stephen Davis, a line of 4 DTR crew snaking their way to the top.

DTR invades Rosea carpark. Karl, myself,
and Andrew. (Photo credit: Warwick King)

The weather, whilst still fine, turned decidedly colder on this stretch. The wind was the main factor. Not enough to make you stop and put a jacket or thermal on, but enough to know that if you had to stop, you would get very cold, very quickly. The views though were outstanding. Take my word because I didn't stop to take photos, just wanted to get to the top asap and get the descent underway. As we approached the summit, it was mostly walking, with the occasional burst of running. It wasn't so much the ascent, as it was the path. Rocky and uneven at best, a bit of scrambling at the worst. Run and slip here, almost certainly a disaster of a high magnitude. It twisted, and turned and in places you had to duck under a rock, then stop and peer around you to make sure you had the trail in sight. As interesting as this section was, the best was yet to come!
Just before the summit of Rosea, I was caught up by another runner, someone I didn't know, but he looked familiar, and I looked familiar to him. We chatted at length about running, future events, this event etc. So much so that we both ran past a rather large sign pointing us towards the track to Borough Huts. Half way to Rosea lookout we realised our error. Turned around to trudge back down, turning back a couple of other runners but also watching a stream of other runners get in front of us. More rock hopping, a bit of running then we hit the section of stone steps that mark the top of the descent to Borough Huts and a well-anticipated aid station. This section is worth the entry price alone. 6k of flowing trail on a mild gradient. After the slow and ponderous progress of the last 2+ hours, it was great to stretch the legs out. Down we went, DTR friend Stephen Davis in front of me after a few k, we steadily dropped back down towards the back of Bellfield. Last year I was in and around a large group, this year only a few of us, so not much chat (missed you, Bec Howe!).

Across the top was less running, more scrambling. The path at times becomes vague and indistinguishable from everything else! (Photo Credit: Alan Cleveralias!)

Arrived at Borough Huts in good shape. Certainly better than last year where I arrived thinking that now would be a good time to finish. Grabbed another gel (Vfuel, of course), aid station coordinator extraordinaire Bernie offered to clean up my bloody knee. I kindly declined, knee was fine. Taz from Phillip Island runners was there, taking photos of my damaged leg, but also giving words of encouragement (they were not forgotten, thanks Taz). After a few minutes, I pulled out of there and started on the long trek back to the finish.
Having done this last year, I was well aware of the mental toughness needed here, and that if I was done physically, it was a long way to home. First few k's out, I felt good. Nice steady pace, we were on the side of the road until we turned towards the eastern side of the lake on the dirt road. The road climbs very gently here, enough to let you know, but not enough that running is difficult. I had Stephen in front of me again shortly afterward along here, and it made me keep up and keep him in my sights. I was steeling myself for the first of 4 'pinches'. Number 1 arrived. I'd vowed that I would walk it, regardless of how I felt. No problems with that decision, what a bastard of an incline at that point of the run. Knocks the momentum out of everything.
Crested the hill and set off to start running again. And that is when I discovered my legs had decided, “bugger this” and had disappeared off to Rio, leaving me with a pair of useless stick-like appendages, not good for much else. But, the mind was still willing. I shuffled on, the pace pretty much gone, but I moved forward out of sheer pigheadedness.

See photographer, suck it up and pose
(Offical event photography: SuperSport Images)

Caught up with Stephen for the next 'pinch', and we adopted a run/walk strategy through this and the next 2. We chatted a bit, ran a bit, walked a bit, but really we were both just moving as fast as we could towards Halls Gap. One pleasing feature was the weather was still nice, even a bit warmish at times, and the views over the lake we lovely. Whilst not the most inspiring section of the run, the sounds, the smells, the squelching of mud under the shoe, all make it a rich and rewarding experience.
As we approached Brambuk and the wet grassy plains, the track goes downhill quite rapidly. My legs, sore and tight after all the climbs, weren't happy here. They'd returned from Rio just to complain about it. Stephen got away from me here, I nearly caught him at the aid station, but beyond that point my race was pretty much me on auto-pilot just getting it done, ugly and nearly effective, but done all the same. Photographer around the corner was the cue to run again, then I had to stop, compose myself and get going again. I forgot about the steps along here, coppers logs, about a metre across, very difficult on tired legs. It seemed like an age to get to Delleys Bridge, and any thoughts I had about doing a 4:45 started to seriously evaporate along here. And then the heavens opened. I hadn't even spied the cloud coming across. One moment it was sunny, the next raining and cold.

Don't like the weather in Victoria? Come back in 10 minutes!
Left to right: Kylie (sun), Sue (sun), Paul (sun), Narelle (sun), Tim (light rain), Me (pissing down), Diana (rain easing)
(Photo credit: Belinda Roffey)

Hit Delleys, finally. Greeted by a friendly face of Belinda Roffey, taking photos and urging me on that I was nearly there. I knew it was close, but I was cooked. Hit the concrete footpath beyond the bridge and gave myself a mental spray to just get on with it. Once I started running again, I was okay. Mentally picking up, knowing the finish was just over a k around the corner. 2 women passed me, Kerry Schilke, and Jennine. Both gave me brief words of encouragement, as I gave some back. Trail runners are incredibly supportive, why I love this sport so much. Turned the final corner, recognised many familiar landmarks, and mapped out the path home.
Many friends along here yelling and clapping. The finish is up the main street (on the footpath), and it is a great way to finish a race. Tired legs and minds somehow pull out one last mighty effort to bring it home strong. And I did, 15 minutes faster than last year and with the feeling that despite the late race fade, I was much stronger and fitter than this time last year.
Finish, bling draped over my neck, then the most awesome hug from friend Narelle (has become a bit of a Wonderland tradition!), and then I smashed down 4 cups of coke. Don't normally drink it, but after this, give me sugar and caffeine, and give it to me NOW!

Post Race

The DTR Memorial First Aid Room at the Halls Gap community centre!
Myself, Stephen, Karl (just visiting), and Shawn.
(Photo credit: Helen Jane Davis)

Having run 33k of the race with a bloodied knee, I decided maybe it was time to get it cleaned up. Saunter into the first aid room only to be greeted by the staff there, “Hello Les, welcome back!”. Bastards know me by name. And in here were 3 other DTR members, 2 of whom were requiring attention. Indeed, the chair I was sitting in had just been vacated by a former DTR Naralle! The DTR injury squad was in full swing. CJ from LTR stuck his head in briefly, alarmed after hearing I was once again in first aid at Wonderland, saw the cut on my knee, laughed and buggered off again! On the way out I got a “See you at Two Bays” send off from the first aid guys. Very funny boys, very funny...
Sunday night at Wonderland is curryoke, curry and karaoke. A great night some great entertainment, some terrific singing (not from me...), and the best way to wind down after a hard race. Slept well that night.

Monday

Lift back to Melbourne with Caz Derby (a different Caz 😄), great chat and banter to wind down after the weekend, and then back to reality for all of us. Another weekend in the Grampians over, already talking about coming back for 2018. No DOMS really, just that guttural groan every time Caz and I got in and out of her car! Knee feeling good too, just the pain of the cut, no bruising of flaoting kneecap to really put a dampener on the weekend.

What Next?

This was the first race in a block of 3 covering 7 weeks. Next is Surf Coast Century 50 on September 9th, followed 5 weeks later by Melbourne Marathon. It's an ambitious plan, and recovery sessions the key here, far more important than any hard and brutal training runs. Given where I was on 1st January, not running and in pain, it is simply enough that I can make the start line of these events, let alone do well in them.

Post this image every year, never looks any easier!
And notice the "37.5 km at 0%"? Distance is value for money, and it's a flat run (elevation gain = descent!)

Until next time...