Hymn Of The Big Wheel

Race History of Duncans

Duncan Orr, was a spirited young man born and raised in Traralgon, Victoria. He developed a passion for long range running and ultra marathons as a young adult, fulfilling a lifelong dream in 2010, running his first ultramarathon in Peru. Duncan was also a committed and influential member of the Traralgon Harriers running club.
Duncan passed away in a tragic accident in 2013 and this event, founded by his widow Anna with friends and family, is run in memory of his life and passion for running.

From Duncans Run website

The race first stated in 2013. Initially offering a 100k, 50k and a 28k race held in December, it changed to late April/ early March after the 2015 event was cancelled because of dangerous bushfire conditions. The 100k was also dropped to ease the burden on what was a small but enthusiastic organising committee, and the 21k introduced, being the first section of the 50k. Building on the success of the intervening years, the 2018 event boasted the largest number of runners, across all events (6k, 21k, and 50k). Talk of returning the 100k event is gathering momentum.
As a local event, it was important that I support it in any way I can. Being my year of ultras, the 50k was always only the ever distance I would do here this year.

My History with Duncans

2017 started with me plowing through a rehab programme attempting to overcome a persistent case of Plantar Fasciitis. A comeback 10k run on Mornington Peninsula proved that whilst I could run, my fitness was somewhat lacking. It was a hot day for that 10k, I secretly hoped Duncans was a bit cooler. Always be careful what you wish for...
A fortnight later, I fronted up at Duncans to do the 21k. I have documented it here (along with the 10k and a 30k race after it). Duncans that day was memorable on a number of fronts. Firstly I was 10 minutes late starting, getting a personalised race brief from Travis, the weather was so unlike the 10k 2 weeks previous, and I learned what a wonderful place Tara Bulga was to run in.
It was the only time I'd run here, previously I'd entered the 2015 event, only to have it cancelled.

What Happened on Saturday.

Baw Baw Runners represented at Duncans.
L to R: Nicky, Carolyn, Linda, Michael, Lea, Matt, Becky, myself, Linda, Sheryn, and Pete.
(Photo credit: Michael Winterton)

Determined not to be late again, Nicky and I set off at 6:05, only to have Google Maps send us on a very odd route. Eventually pulled the car over, stopped and restarted the GPS (just making sure I took the right turn-off from the highway). Arrived at Balook about 45 minutes before race start. Not late, but not ideal. As is customary these days, I know lots of runners at these events. Along with the 2 big groups I run with (Lysterfield Trail Runners LTR, and Dandenong Trail Runners DTR), it was really pleasing to have a group of runners from my local running group in Warragul. Baw Baw Runners (BBR) comprises runners of varying abilities, experiences, and interests. Much like any other regional running group. Through the enthusiasm for trails that a number of us show, many members who have never run them have recently decided to have a go. With mixed results I must add, some courses are not easy by any means. And Duncans 21k is not your average flat track road half marathon! It was great they were there to have a go. And this was my first race running in a BBR shirt, I wanted to make sure it was a good one.

Mark, getting some serious air, back of Mt. Tassie
(Photo credit: Burning Harp Photography)

Changed, toilet (very important), and a quick group photo and then race brief with Travis. Thankfully this year, not a personalised one as I quickly get kitted out.
At 8:00am we were off. 35+ runners heading out in mild but dry conditions. The forecast was for late rain. How late we would find out. Early pacing is the key in an ultra. Too fast and you will surely burn up like an uncontrolled satellite re-entry, too slow and it can set the scene for a long day out with no zip. Conscious about running to effort, I let the group in front of me drift away slowly, so even by the suspension bridge, I was a good 80 odd metres behind the runner in front. But as we climbed back out from the creek, I caught several guys in front, all of us taking turns to run and hike the hills.

First 2k on Scenic Track, the main walking track from the visitors centre, then cross Grand Ridge Road to take a nice piece of single trail to get to Drysdale Road, a 4WD track. A gentle climb before we crossed the Traralgon-Balook Road. I started catching a few other runners along here, I wasn't concerned as I was running comfortably, HR was within a good range (for me). But then I was concerned as I came up behind Stuart Hughes. Normally I would see Stuart at the start, and maybe at the finish, never mid-way through a race. Either I was a. Going out too hard, b. Stuart was taking it easy, or c. I was hallucinating. A quick hello as I ran past and on I went. The next 4ks took us along the wonderful Duffs Sawmill Heritage Trail, a glorious single trail of ferns and wet forest. Through here the first of the 21k runners (starting 10 minutes behind us) came plowing past. Happy to let them go through, get off the trail if need be.

Nicole Vaughan and I, selfie at Mt. Tassie.

Running conditions were near perfect, mild, not really muggy like my last 3 races, and the trail was fairly dry after the recent lack of rain. Exit the forest onto Callignee South Road on our way to Mt Tassie. Less than a kilometre of gentle gradient up this road, but it seems to go on a bit. Last year this was like the descent into hell with the eerie light shining from the gloam, this year we would be blessed with uninterrupted views. 10k mark and we are at the peak at Mt Tassie, the highest point of our run today. Along here I'd caught up with a friend Nicole Vaughan and we stopped to take photos of the view, a few selfies, and just generally take in the good feeling you get from a lookout. Drop down off the back of the peak, a photographer on the bank to our right as Nicole and I run together. We both plaster our biggest smiles hoping they show in the photo.

And now the long descent begins, from the top of Mt. Tassie to the bottom of the road and the chance to pick up some time lost after the initial climbs. The road was good, so I was able to let the legs stride out and cruise down at around 5min/k pace. Caught Nicole again (I'd stopped for water when we crossed the Traralgon-Balook Road again). A quick peek at the watch, revealed that I was about 10 or so minutes ahead of where I was last year doing this as a 21k. Then we hit the bottom, and I knew what was ahead. A long, slow grinding climb with some gradients that just weren't built for running. A few more 21k runners joined me as we hauled arse back up to Balook.

Most of this climb is not runnable at all. Lean forward, sometimes with hands on knees we hiked as fast as we could go. Hard turn left into a cleared area and I could run here, but 100 metres later the gradient climbed again. Hike again. From here for the next kilometre it is mainly hiking. Finally the gradient levels out, still climbing, but I start running again. 21K female passes me, and we turn back onto the trail that leads downhill to Balook and the start/finish area. She takes off, along with several others. My legs not quite up to that speed but I ran down all the same. Crossed the  Traralgon-Balook Road and back onto the day use trails, across the suspension bridge and finally at 2:20 back into the start finish area.

Panorama from the top of Mt. Tassie. Last year, just low cloud and wind howling through the TV towers.

Back to Balook

Ran through the finish chute and straight round to the transition area (not before spying a runner under a space blanket in the recovery position). Nicky came up to greet me, ask me how I was. And honestly, I was feeling fine. Legs were feeling the climbs, but aerobically I was in good shape and more than happy to continue. Spoke to Cecile, asked how Chris was going and was surprised when she said he'd just left the transition area. Stuart Hughes was also just leaving, once again I was surprised to still be seeing him. 

Warwick finishing the 1st loop.
(Photo credit: Nicky Walsh)

Returning after the 1st loop.
(Photo credit: Nicky Walsh)

Changed over soft flask of electrolytes, grab rain jacket from kit bag as the skies were very grey, grabbed some food from the aid station (the Mars Bar slice to die for…), quick kiss from Nicky (sorry honey, I was probably feral at that point) and then I headed off for the 2nd loop of 29 k. I walked for a bit, eating, collecting my thoughts and wondered if one or two of the runners in the 50 I'd run in with would be joining me. After about 5 minutes the course returned to the trail and a started running again. Legs initially a bit lazy, but as the gradient was gently downhill, I slowly gathered momentum and was going at a pretty good pace.

Even though I'd studied the elevation profile for this loop, not having run it was going to be a challenge, knowing when to run and when to hike etc. The first loop was good for me like that. Crossed Bulga Park Road where there was a marshal point and headed back into the forest. The first drops of rain hit me, then disappear again. Lots of logging in this area, and it would have been pretty crappy to walk through here, but it was the start of a very long gradual downhill section, and the pace returned to my run again. A few twists and turns, in and out of some unlogged and fairly undisturbed areas, a beautiful cascade of water on my right at one point providing cool relief over the THIR and the back of the neck. I was wondering where the other runners were, thinking that some of them should have caught up with me by now.

DTR crew before the start. L to R: Warwick, Jennifer, Karin and Diana.
(Photo credit: Jennifer Rickards)

The descent continued, on and on. Only a few occasions did the trail climb upwards, but for more than 90% of the 6k down, it was just plain down. Finally at the 29k mark as the forest closed in and the temperature dropped the trail abruptly came out onto the Tarra Valley Road. And now there was a climb, all the way up beside the road. I was thinking a marshal point was close by, and sure enough at the 30k mark one appeared in the car park at the start of the West Loop trail. And here I bumped into Cecile again, with Chris. One look at Chris made me realise he wasn't having the happiest of days. A shared look between the two of them almost confirmed their concern for him. A quick hello to Chris before he headed off and I filled up my soft flask with water and electrolyte tablet. And it was here the rain belted down. Has done every time I've ventured into the Tarra Valley, why not now?

The next section of trail from here I will have difficulty in explaining, other than it was a complete sod! It was indistinct, to almost impossible to see. So much bark and leaf litter, the trail twisted and turned sharply and if not for the occasional parks triangle marker and event tape, it would have been easy to just get completely lost. And the climb was pretty savage. After a bit, the navigation and gradient were easier and I spied Chris ahead, eventually passing him. He was in his own space at that point, nothing for me to say except a few brief words of encouragement, and I climbed on. I was still feeling good, although the first real signs of fatigue were showing. Legs tripping on tree roots, stumbles that threaten to turn into falls, that sort of thing. I remembered I had a double caffeine shot gel in the vest, pulled it out and downed the lot. It actually had an immediate effect. 

Some of the gorgeous trail we ran on and surrounded by
 stunning groves of ferns. (Photo credit: Michael Cardiff)

Rain still coming down, but lighter now. I was wet through from the rain at the marshal point, I wasn't cold so I left the rain jacket in the vest. 33k mark saw the climb finish and another descent. The trail suddenly went from wide open track, almost 4WD road, to single track, and steep down. The rain had made it very slippery in places and I could see some very impressive slide marks from the runners in front of me. Heard voices and thought that runners behind me were catching up. But no, it was the vollies at the 34k mark. Impressive setup, Ham radio, generator, lots of other electrical devices squished under a marquee. As I approached, the rain came back with vengeance.

Walked out of here, eating half a cliff bar, drinking some water to wash it down, and then run off again. Still on our downhill slog, there was another 5k of it, a parkrun of gentle pace! I was travelling well, still on my own but quite confident that my energy and strength was holding up. But, somewhere along here (don't really remember, lost in the mists of time…), every ultra runners worst nightmare came true. That one-hit wonder of a song that drags itself from the record library of your brain and hurls itself onto the turntable of constant repeat. Yep, couldn't get it out of my head, all the way down here, all the way back up to the climb. Shit, even now writing this it threatens to come back for a repeat performance. And todays #1 with a bullet? REO Speedwagon – Keep on Loving You. Despite the pure genius of the song as a radio-friendly power pop ballad, it has never been a fave. Probably as it was (and still is) played to death. And so it was, after 5 unrelenting k's downhill, through a really shitty forestry area with a graded road that made the clay stick to the tread on my shoes that I came close to yelling out at the top of my voice;

“And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you
'Cause it's the only thing I want to do...”
Turned a corner at around the 40k and started climbing again. Realised that song had gone, “what song, oh that one”, and realised it was still there;
“I don't wannna sleep,
I just wanna keep on loving yoooouuuuu”

The elevation profile makes this look like a beast of a climb, but in reality, it is what some would call douche grade, sharp enough to know you are climbing, shallow enough to think hiking is taking the easy option. My strategy here was to run until the HR either spiked, or the climb did steepen enough to warrant a hike. What I ended up doing was using landmarks to run to, “the second stump on the left, 80 metres”, then walk a bit, “the last piece of pink tape beyond the left fork in the trail”. I knew at some point I had to descend again to rejoin our path from the first loop, just not exactly where.
I was trying not to look at my watch along here, but a quick check of time and a hasty calculation and I thought sub 6hr was possible. My natural inbuilt cynicism decided I was hallucinating or the calc was stuffed, but it spurred me on to keep going. 43k saw the final bit of down. I was still surprised that I was running freely here. Previously in ultras with this sort of climbing, my legs would be fatigued, and cramps threatening to make an unwelcome appearance. But no, all was good. And looking back, I have also recognised that I had very few, if any, dark moments during the race. Here I was, nearing 45k, the last 16 on my own and I was in a very positive frame of mind. Except for that bloody song;

Love this slogan.
When I try to explain at work my weekendactivities, well.... 

“And I'm gonna keep on lovin' you
'Cause it's the only thing I want to do...”
Argggghhhhhhh, just no. Please go away….

Marker tape and a sign pointing right, and a very steep pinch as the trail rejoined the first loop. I turned my watch on to HR for the climb. Partly so I couldn't see the stopwatch and put undue pressure on myself for a sub 6, but also to monitor HR on the climb. It was a carbon copy effort of 3 hours ago, slightly slower but not by much. My watch was set to beep at kilometre intervals, and it was climbing up here that I started to think the course was going to be long. As it levelled out and I was able to run, 47k ticked over, long before I reached the top of the climb, 48k ticked over. Shit, I thought, this is going to clock over 52k at this rate. The over-distance doesn't bother me. You start, you run the course, you finish. If it's 49.5, 50, or 50.5 it doesn't matter. But my slim hopes of sub 6 faded.

Turned back onto to the downhill trail and started walking, slightly demoralised, slightly upset. Watched ticked over 49, and I swear we still had 2.5 to go. But, I thought I was still going to do a significantly good time, so I started running again. And as the pace picked up, I felt good again. It was actually wonderful to still be running this well this far into an ultra. Crossed the Traralgon-Balook Road, expecting to be ushered towards the suspension bridge. But NO! Pointed to my right, and a trail I knew was a shortcut back to the start finish area.

Turn the watch back to stopwatch, 5:57ish showing, and just gun it. In no time I could see the tops of the tents and the finish chute, follow the witches hats around to the left, Dave Sutherland walking alongside with his kit bag yelling at me to just GO GO GO. Turned the corner, finish chute straight ahead and ran down in style, the biggest smile plastered on my face. Stop the watch, 5:59:22. Considering I was targeting 6:30 at best, more likely 7:00, I was over the moon. Travis McKenna had to catch up to me to place a medal over my neck, congratulate me. Michael Cardiff, Shane Winzar, Dave all there, having just finished their race and still getting warmed up and fed. I walked around for a bit, collecting my thoughts, coming to terms with just how well my race went. Chatted with a few other runners, women's winner Nicole Paton and I swapped war stories. Changed, dry, hot soup in my stomach I watched as a number of runners came in behind me. Was really glad to see Chris come in, with Nicole Vaughan. He'd battled hard, but no DNF, awesome result. Presentations of women's place-getters, then Karin and Warwick gave me a lift home to Warragul.

The Debrief

I think Duncan would have been proud to have this race named in his honour. Well organised, a stunning location with some fabulous trails, it now sits somewhere between small rural event to one that is fast gaining a reputation as a classy and challenging run. Add the 100k next year and it will be the full running festival again.

No race is ever perfect, not for me. Always looking to improve, maybe that's what drives me to perform the way I do? But this was as close as I'd expect to do in an ultra. Last year doing the 21k, my watch time was 2:42 (officially 2:52 with the 10 minute late start). This year, 2:20 and I was in much better shape. The benefit of 12 months injury-free training. Maybe I can go faster, certainly on a course with less climbing. Whatever, the confidence boost for 80k at Margaret River in May was terrific. So, for the next 6 weeks, recovery, then build back up for Margaret River.

50k results

"And I meant

Every word I said

When I…" Oh, piss off...

Until next time...