Sick Times

You win some, you lose some. And it's easy for me to think that a DNF on Sunday was a loss. But with another ultra 3 weeks after, bailing now and cutting those losses will hopefully result in a win. That was the thinking, anyway.

Background

Two Bays was my first trail race, the one that hooked me. Although I have a somewhat chequered history with the race. 28k in 2014, injured and DNS for years 2015 to 2017 inclusive, then 56k in 2018. Still, undaunted by that pedigree, I love the build-up, the training, following everyone else's trials and tribulations as they try to get through Christmas and New year to the start line.
I had come off the back of a stellar 2018, 6 ultras, all races a success, and then a bit of downtime before training recommenced. November saw the build-up, December was the big month. 300k (my first ever 300k month), including training right through Christmas and New Year. Then it all went pear-shaped. Picked up a cold somewhere on holidays, or travelling back. A run in the Dandenongs on New Years Day was a disaster. I was so far off the pace, not realising I had a cold. The following 2 weeks a race against time to rid me of the cold, and get ready for race day.

Curl and I all smiles before the start.
Photo credit: Carloyn Gilchrist

Travelling down the day before with friend Carolyn, it will be her first Two Bays, 56k and longest run to date. I'm more excited for her than myself.

Race Day: Anatomy of an Unfolding Failed Race

The alarm goes off at 5:00 am. An atypical sleep of the pre-race, wake at regular intervals as the brain attempts to not miss the alarm. Breakfast with Carolyn, she is anxious and fussing around. I'm fairly calm, having completed a number of these events. I tend to take the view that once on the start line, it's up to fate what happens on the day. If you are well prepared, the less that can go wrong.
Drive to Dromana to pick up Mak and Carl, then the 4 of us head to Cape Schanck. The weather is mild, a bit windy when we get there, with the promise of warmer weather later in the day.
Start line is the usual mix of social gathering, long lines to the toilets (the mens for once!) and a few pre-race jitters. Photos, selfies, a few hugs for close friends, then Kate Ablett counted us down to the start.

Victorian Ultra Runners (VUR) group photo. For laughs, pay close attention to photo right
Photo credit ?

The first few k's I concentrate on setting an easy pace. Easier said than done as everyone seems to go out way too fast for an ultra. Chatting with a few other runners, some I'm meeting for the first time having been social media acquaintances previously. About 3k in, my shoelace came undone. I should say rookie error, but I know by now to double knot them. It only takes one section of undergrowth, one step on an errant lace and the potential for tripping increases. A few of the climbs towards Boneo Road aid station, and I'm already walking. I tell myself it's to conserve energy early, and that everyone else is going too fast. Secretly I know energy levels are down, and I'm not looking good. But the beauty of an ultra is that no matter how shit you are currently feeling, you probably still have 40+ k's to work through it.

Was playing tag along here with Carolyn (aka Curl). She had started well and looked comfortable. We acknowledged each other as we passed, but little chat. It was business, getting this race done. Crossed Boneo Road. I stopped, the first piece of food for the day (a few pieces of Clif Bar). It didn't sit well for a few minutes, but after running another k and realising how much I was already sweating, that feeling seemed to be forgotten. Wind our way along the creek before a short climb to the turnoff to Long Pt Circuit, and the start of the diversion for the 56k runners. I love this first section. Single trail, beautiful lush green undergrowth and those sumptuous smells of the early morning. But today, I felt wretched. Really, even here. 8, nearly 9k in. But I still refused to believe here that the day was gone. Just keep moving and see what happens.

Dandenongs Trail Runners group photo for the 56 before the start.

We turn off the track and turn onto a trail that is more road. Open to the elements (the sun is starting to climb high and get warm) and sandy underfoot (cue Margaret River Ultra flashbacks), I was caught up by Chris and Matthew and we chatted for a bit as we ran. No doubt the chat helped me take my mind of my difficulties, and the flatter terrain meant I could find a good pace. Coupled with the fact that by now we have thinned out and are running alongside runners of similar abilities and pace. I won't say it became easy, but the first time today I thought that maybe things were looking up.
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Around the 12 or 13k mark, I was joined by Dave and Charis, running together for her first 56. It was along here, sharing the trail with a number of friends that I felt the best. It still wasn't easy, but the pace was fine, and it seemed like I could do this for a lot longer. Sections of the track are very sandy. The recent dry conditions have made the sand loose. It becomes a battle to find a firm track to run on. At about 16k mark we hit the aid station at the top of Hyslops. My friend Caz is there, taking photos and cheering us all on. It didn't need to stop here, plenty of food still in the pack, and enough fluids to get me to the next stop.

When Thoughts Turned to the Alternative

Going down Hyslops should have been easy after the track. But I made it look deceptively difficult. I was labouring, and I knew it. Stopped halfway down to eat some food, but it didn't sit well in the stomach. I felt ill and was now worrying about keeping food down. Just as we crossed Browns Road and headed back into the bush trail, a tap on the shoulder and VUR supremo Jon Lim (aka, the bearded Asian) was there. We had a brief chat, both of us struggling but intent on getting into Dromana under cutoff so that we could have the luxury of a bit of time to do the return. At that point, 18k, that sounded just fine.

Crossing Browns Road with Jon Lim on my right shoulder. Can't really see here, but apparently, my face was a shade
of grey. Despi is photo right. Photo credit: Renee Duyvesten

The bush track is called Stefanie Rennick Walk; a short but beautiful section of trail that has a few steep climbs at either end. running down here, friend Despi asks me how I'm going. I conceal a lot, "okay, but not great". Later she confessed that she thought I looked terrible but didn't want to tell me that, in case it had a negative effect on me. Glad she did, I was feeling crap, but still determined at that point. Along here I caught up with Curl. Couldn't recall when she'd passed me, but was good to share some time with her as we climbed back out onto Duells Road. Gravel road, out in the open, but at least in this direction, downhill. It was here that cramps started to really get to her. She stopped a few times, stretch them out and continue on. I stayed with her. Twofold reasons, concern for her, and realisation that my race was shot, so I could at least help her. On Duells and after we turned onto Yambie Avenue, twice we had to stop and I massaged her calves. There were huge knots in them.

Eventually, she stopped again and urged me to keep going. I'd given her a salt chew to see if that helped, and continued on to the aid station at Avalon Avenue. Friend Zoe was volunteering here. So great to see her, I could have stayed hugging her for another hour. I really did feel crap here. No energy, no drive, and no mental strength left to draw on. Run walk up Coolgowie Street, just as the front runner in the 56 returns in the opposite direction. Shit that's fast, I thought. Then I thought that maybe I was was just going slower than I'd thought. Later I realised it was both... Friend Mark at the gate that joins the Two Bays trail again, and the ascent after McClarens Dam. Mark gives me a cheer and a bit of a rev. Needed it, but within 2 minutes I'm walking again. Last year the 2 of us had climbed this section, probably a good 20 minutes earlier than I was now.

The Mind is Made Up

Friends Jaye and Michelle are marshals at the bottom of the steep climb. I wave gamely at them then head up. My legs are gone. I know it. And it is up here I decide to just get to Dromana and call it quits. No gains left for today, nothing else but destroying myself further and prompting a long recovery, and the chance I won't be good for next race. That race being 2 weeks and 6 days after this!

Many runners starting to pass me coming back from Dromana. First the front-runners, then the main pack. It is in the main pack, and seeing a lot of friends (who ask me how I'm going), that I start to actually tell anyone I'm done in and pulling out at halfway. Disappointed as that decision was, I was comfortable with it (and 9 days later, I'm more than comfortable with it as I'm already running and feeling good). I'd like to say the descent to Dromana was uneventful. It was until I went to hi 5 Trish Yates and ended up sitting on my arse. It was funny, mainly because no-one got hurt, and it probably looked funny.

By now, the numbers of runners returning in the opposite direction is at it's most numerous. I finally exit the park and hit the top of Latrobe Parade. Last year this bitumen downhill section did my head in. At this point, I was really not looking forward to it at all. Stopped to chat with a few friends. Their enquiries being replied with my decision.

26k in, another 2k to go to Dromana. It took an eternity. It was hot, but that wasn't the source of my discomfort. My stomach was churning, several times I thought I might have thrown up. I was light-headed and really just in the worst of moods. That eternity finally ended as I turned the corner at Dromana, spied Matt Veenstra and told him that was it. Crossed the timing mat, rang the bell, then calmly unstrapped my hydration vest to get some cool air around my chest. 3:33, 12 minutes under the cutoff, but in no mood to return back.

The buses bringing 28k runners back from Cape Schanck were returning, and a few friends came over to chat. Curl then entered the halfway, still battling cramps, ate some food and headed off again. This time with the whole packet of my salt chews. I was suitably impressed. Jon Lim had left just as I entered the transition area, but would also bail on the other side of Arthurs Seat.

Jon and I with Kate Ablett after we'd DNF'ed. We are smiling!
Photo credit: Jon Lim

I went and lay down in the shade. I messaged Nicky, told her I'd DNF'ed, and then posted to social media before heading to the beach with Megan (who'd done the 28k) to wash the legs, cool down and unwind. After a couple of hours, I developed an appetite and Megan gave me a lift back to Cape Schanck where I finally devoured some food and coffee and anything else I could get my hands on.

Was great seeing all my friends finish. No FOMO, just inspired by their efforts on such a hot day. Times well down on previous years, but these are the days that bears legendary efforts. Many friends were very supportive and comforting, and I thank you all. I was very calm and quite okay with it all. Except when I saw my good friend Belle, after she had finished with Nick Cimdins. The look of disappointment on her face as she went to hug me nearly made the tears come. Clearly, I was in a bit of a fragile state, just didn't realise it.

Now, all there was left to do was to wait for Curl to finish. One by one runners came in; late 6 hours, then 7 hours, then mid 7 hours. There were still a few out there. 7:50 came and went (and friend Despi from earlier in the day cramped coming over the line), then 7:55 and finally 8:00 hours and cutoff. So that was that. Curls family had arrived and were waiting patiently. Then at around the 8:30 mark, Curl arrived. Just in front of another friend, Karin. Both would receive medals, but no officially recorded time. Curl was more than a bit emotional as her family greeted her. It had been a tough day, cramps for most of the race, coupled with the heat. But she finished what she set out to do, and couldn't be prouder of her, thankfully put my day into perspective.

After she had recovered a bit, we decided to head down to Jetty Road Brewery and celebrate with a few ales and sparkling wine. Sitting there celebrating someone else's triumph made me remember my first time I completed Two Bays, and the sense of achievement it gave me. the day was complete.

Post Race

So on Saturday, I thought I was fine to run, but the Sunday showed me otherwise. 2 days after Two Bays I was still feeling some ill effects, but eventually, I chanced a run and although it felt crappy, the next one was a vast improvement. The decision to bail when I did was the wisest one I could have made (short of not doing anything at all). With Cradle Mountain run coming up, I needed to recover, and that I have done. It is now 11 days out and I'm finally feeling confident about it again.
The only downside was later on seeing how many people didn't finish on the day. Don't know how high it was statistically with recent Two Bays events, but there were many friends on that list, and I was gutted for them. But I know they will all be back, as I shall be back.

A few DTRs photobombing the Running in the Burbs group photo. If you can't have a bit of fun before the start,
what is the point of living? And I think this might have started a bit of photobombing competition.
Photo credit?

Up Next

February 2nd -  Cradle Mountain run. My A list race for 2019. 80k on a technical trail in a remote area. Recent extreme weather, current fires there are making the cancellation of the event a possibility.
March 16th - Sharpies beer run. Because, why not...
March 23rd - Duncans 100k. Because there were cheap opening night specials...

Until next time...