Run Larapinta - 4-day multi-stage race.
Stage 3
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| Race start, day 3. At the start of a 14k flat gravel road, everyone getting ready as the sun rises. |
"What should I do?"
"Run", was my droll reply.
"Run", was my droll reply.
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| Our first 14k, this road to Birthday Waterhole. Flat and cruisy! |
Boarding my bus, and glad to see Andrew has made it after saying he'd give serious considerations to backing up after yesterday's nightmare. Today we were going to finish at the same place as yesterday, but running from the opposite direction. The bus trip taking a little bit more, allowed a few conversations to pick up, mostly about how frigging hard day 2 was!
Our bus must have engaged warp speed, as we arrived at our start way earlier than expected. The short course runners were ahead of us, using the portaloos before they were driven 10k down the road to their start line. Being a new stage for this event (covid related issues meant a change for days 3 and 4), the timings were still a bit unknown, so Sam had to hold us back for a few minutes.
Eventually, we were able to use the conveniences and start getting ready. So early were we, that around 7:10 Sam decided that we may as well go early (our programme said 7:30 start). That all sounded good, but I was still standing in line for the toilet. Sam called out if we were all ready, everyone was, and I was too scared to yell out, "Noooooo". 😒
So, a 7:15 start it was. Somehow found myself seeded a bit high at the start, headed off at a reasonable clip, and then found myself chugging along at 6-minute pace.
It was flat, the occasional sandy section (Margaret River Ultra flashbacks notwithstanding), but aside from a few corrugations, it was pretty much like an extended parkrun. And considering yesterday's reference point, anything like this was a welcome change. And it was great to stretch out the legs, let them actually run for a change.
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| He made it! |
Eventually, we were able to use the conveniences and start getting ready. So early were we, that around 7:10 Sam decided that we may as well go early (our programme said 7:30 start). That all sounded good, but I was still standing in line for the toilet. Sam called out if we were all ready, everyone was, and I was too scared to yell out, "Noooooo". 😒
So, a 7:15 start it was. Somehow found myself seeded a bit high at the start, headed off at a reasonable clip, and then found myself chugging along at 6-minute pace.
It was flat, the occasional sandy section (Margaret River Ultra flashbacks notwithstanding), but aside from a few corrugations, it was pretty much like an extended parkrun. And considering yesterday's reference point, anything like this was a welcome change. And it was great to stretch out the legs, let them actually run for a change.
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| 14k of glorious flat road to start day 3. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
Passed through 5k mark in 29 minutes, 10k in 1 hour 1 minute and 14k to the waterhole in 1:30. Can't get more consistent than that.
Halfway up the first climb, I passed Jason again. Moving up, but slowly, deliberately. He was fine, just not moving as fast as I was. I wondered if I was burning fuel tickets moving at this pace, but it felt comfortable and controlled. Just keep moving, don't overthink it.
The aid station was reasonably quiet when I got there, but within a minute a whole stream of runners came in behind me, many of them friends. Realising that I needed to get out of the way, I hurried up filling flasks and bladder. We were required to take a minimum of 2 litres from this checkpoint, and given my issues yesterday, not wanting a repeat episode of dehydration, I had filled my bladder up and was sliding the clip on. Must have rushed it too much, had it on an angle. It wouldn't close properly. Trying not to make matters worse, I tried to pull it back off, but wet slippery hands made it impossible. In desperation, I jammed it on even harder (relegating it into the "deal with it later" basket). At least it sealed, but good luck getting it off to fill it up tomorrow...
Headed off around the side of the waterhole. We'd been told that we'd have to wade across (decisions about shoes on, shoes off, etc.), but race crew had found a way for us to navigate around it. 15k mark, another dry creek bed. Loose stone and gravel, not easy to run in, so I decided to just walk this section, save the energy. Sun had really started to warm us up, it had started to get a bit toasty on the open road before the waterhole, no shade and the longest continuous run for most of us this event.
Along here, Aaron caught up with me. He had been in a pretty bad way when my group caught up with him yesterday, 6 or so ks to go to the finish. Today, much better and he was content to stick with me for a bit as we approached the climb. Once off the creek, it was a lovely trail through Casuarina and a few open grasslands. The trail twisted and turned so much it was once again hard to get into a rhythm. Aaron and I were having a few chats; racing, yesterdays nightmare (😁), how we are feeling today etc. It made the travelling go quicker. We walked/ran where we could, another few sections of the trail being totally overgrown with grass. Aaron managing to trip on a hidden tree root, no damage, but a timely reminder to be careful. Along here I repeated what had started for me yesterday; having rocks flip up into my ankle. 3k into yesterday, I stood on a rock that I thought was stable (it wasn't), and it rolled sideways and flipped up onto my ankle, hitting right on the nerve. My foot went numb for a minute or 2, I couldn't run, barely walk. But eventually, it came good, although a dull ache persisted all day. Today I managed to do it again. Didn't hit the nerve, but slap bang on the point where it still hurt.
A few times we nearly lost the path, around about the same time we started catching up with the short course runners. They had been driven up to the 10k mark on the road we ran and commenced their race from there. Also starting early, we might actually get an afternoon to relax today. 19k mark was where today started to get a bit real. The major climb of the day. It wasn't going to be as tough as the previous day, but given cumulative fatigue, it was still going to ask serious questions.
Not as steep, nor quite as technical, it still slowed us right up as we hiked up the zig-zags. Aaron still behind me, the both of us occasionally stopping to take photos. The early climbing is not too bad, you can hike quite easily, admire the views and encourage other competitors around us.
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| Look closely at the patch of green in the centre of the photo, it is the middle of the forest with the dry creek bed we'd climbed up, 4k previously. |
21k and 2:50 hours in we topped out on the first part of the climb. I say the first part, as it dropped down, wound around, then appeared to just head up over the next ridge. Ran and trotted down the path, hit the bottom then started the steeper climb up. This was the real scramble, reminiscent of yesterday in the last 5k before Standley Chasm. I must admit, I hadn't studied the course profile as keenly as previous days, so I thought it was all over when levelled out on to a saddle with some outstanding views. But, to our left, climbing up was the inevitable conga line of runners. And it was pretty much straight up, not a great deal of contour line hugging going on. Aaron and I grabbed some photos, then pushed on.
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| Just about at the top of the climb, the real peak, not the one I thought was the top. |
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| Aaron in front of me on the ridgeline as we headed along before descending. The 'trail' is basically the guts of the ridge. | | |
Most of this section, back on my own again, slowly descending off the ridge, trying to spy where the trail was heading next. It wasn't very obvious. If anyone was to ask me, I would have waved a hand vaguely in the direction of north and say, "Over there, somewhere.". I was not entirely confident 😀
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| Nicky doing the short course. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
Around the 25k mark, I caught one of the runners, it was my friend, Andrew. Not liking the technical running on the rocks and stones. Unspoken, but we stick together as the path meanders around, heads down on its long slow descent to the finish line. From the peak down to about 3k out, it was like this; exposed, rocky, mostly descending, occasionally a tight sharp climb. there was a bit of running, mainly shuffling, but any climb up was a walk/hike. I was still moving okay, but most of my running was done for the day.
And around here something happened that no runner wants to go through a mid-trail run in a remote area. No, not a fall, nor sickness, not even dehydration. It was the dreaded song stuck in the head on constant rotation. I'd survived 14+ hours so far without the delights of a one-hit-wonder, or shit song from my distant past... But now, as I climbed a short little stretch, Billy Joel's - Uptown Girl sprang into life, and simply refused to bugger off. All I can think of, Uptown was a reference to climbing, going up. I don't know, it just bloody stuck there. Tried valiantly to clear it with another song, Happy Mondays - Kinky Afro seemed to do the trick until I started questioning the lyrics. Then "Uptown girl, She's been living in her uptown world" just smoothly cruised back in. The horror, the absolute horror.
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| Andrew and I posing for the photographer. This was the view for most of our ridgeline descent. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
I battled on, gamely.
There were a number of hiking groups heading in the opposite direction all day, they are amazed at us, we are amazed back carrying all that weight on this uneven ground must be hard. Now, 5k out from the finish, there are hiking groups heading in the same direction and they are more than happy to step aside and let us pass. It was where we came across Matt, the photographer. He took a few pics, we posed for a few and he told us that it was all downhill from here (where have we heard that before, kiddies!) and it was pretty much 5k. Well, that was news to me. The stage had been advertised as 31k. When I mapped it on Garmin, it came to 32, 5k from here meant 33k. probably splitting hairs, 1k over is within the unofficial guidelines for a trail run, but mentally I didn't need any more setbacks.
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| Panorama of just some of the spectacular scenery from today |
Andrew agreed that 5k would mean 33k. So be it. One final tough little climb up, and then it really was downhill. A race official, the same one as yesterday, was camped at the top of this section with emergency water. I still had enough to keep going, so did Andrew and we headed down.
Running downhill was slow, the path was better, but the legs no longer wanting to do anything other than walk. A section further down was not steep, so I was able to run down steadily. Heard footsteps behind me, thinking Andrew was happy to push on I stepped aside to let him through. Except it was someone else. 2 guys, Martin and Pat. Both in my age group, and I'd been shadowing them since day 1. A minute on day 1, 3 on day 2. I thought I'd got them today, only for them to gun me down 2k out. I had to laugh. I wasn't really racing, but it was nice to be competitive.
A few other runners came past, just as we hit the final stretch, the almost mandatory dry creek bed. Fuck me laughing, I stood there, hands on hips, and stared down the creek bed, the dry and tricky creek bed. Another female runner ahead was struggling with the trail, but essentially it was just follow the creek down. For some reason, I thought it was straight down this to the finish.
And as I looked ahead, the runner in front turns left and heads up a hill. It's not quite the twin peaks of yesterday, but it seems the only way to get into Standley Chasm is over a climb. Andrew and I, resigned to one last climb, trudge up. Spectator playing music, giving us a razz, "c'mon guys, nearly there", we get to the top, and thankfully spy the cafe and car park ahead of us.
32. 6k, 5 hours 19 later we crossed that finish line. Whilst nowhere near as difficult as day 2, day 3 still had its challenges.
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| Nothing like a finish line photo, full celebratory pose! Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
The Washup
It probably says something about the mind that we can look at a 32k, 900-metre elevation gain on tough technical terrain and say it was easy. In fairness to us all, the reference point/low bar set yesterday meaning anything looked good. I said to Sam Maffet as I crossed the line that I felt I fought the trail all the way on day 2. Today there was much less of that and a feeling that having survived 3 days, the final day was within our grasp.
Coffee, a vege burger (sure I ordered a bacon and egg roll, but vege burger it was), and waited for Nicky to cross the line. She did, utterly stuffed, but happy with her efforts, and even happier she wasn't running again tomorrow. Only us stoopid idiots...
One final time, drag the body out of bed, breakfast, gear ready, and off I go. Nicky has volunteered again today, she left at 5 to help set up, so I was pottering around for a while before I thought I'd better get moving and walk down to the bus. As it was, the bus I was taking drove past my motel, picked myself and another runner up, and took us straight to Crowne, 15 minutes early! It was a long drive out to the start point, and our latest race start at 8:00am. The start point was the Ochre Pits. Ochre was used by Aboriginals for face painting and ceremonial purposes. I couldn't see the pits from here, but once we climbed I could.
* Irony, massive irony
Stage 4
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| Just over a kilometre into the race, runners stringing out on the single trail already. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
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| Selfie with Duncan and Em before the start. |
The usual chit-chat, people queueing for the 1 of only 2 toilets and last-minute slathering on of sunscreen. I'd caught a bit of the sun on day 2, and day 3 only made things a little worse, my face and neck copping most of the sun. Emptied half a container onto me. Race official came round with more and I couldn't even hold the container, so slippery were my hands 😂 Last minute instructions from John Jacoby, and then we assembled on the start line (looked suspiciously like a dry creek bed to me, might have been mistaken, then again there are a few around here!)
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| At the start line. Note how 'stable' the surface looks. Maybe it's another dry creek bed?😉 The photo was taken by Kylie Carmichael. |
And once again, Aaron settled in behind me, using me as the early pacesetter. I was behind Pat and Martin again, shadowing, waiting to pounce. Not really, but they were mirroring my start style; run the flats and downs, hike the climbs. It's a conservative way to start a long-distance race, and especially here where it's such a rough trail, you expend energy just negotiating the rocks. There had been a funny story at one of the awards nights about 2 runners who had an agreement that if one of them tripped and fell, it was a slab for the other. So the story goes, 1 of them actually tripped, fell over but planted both hands down, and held it in a plank position, the chest mere centimeters off the ground! I was reminded of this as I tripped along here, my arms pin-wheeling around as I took several steps with my body at a 45 degree angle, expecting to face plant any second. It was the fear of shouting a slab to at least 5 others that kept me upright 😏
Our first aid station was only 6k in. Most of us barely touching water or food before arriving here. Nicky was volunteering, helping to tick off bib numbers of runners passing through (safety to make sure no one left out on the course), and the large groups of runners made it chaotic at best. A quick bite to eat, a hurried hello to Nic, and off I went. (Later on, she told me runners were asking for Tailwind and were bitterly disappointed when told they didn't have any!) Through some more Casaurinia forest before we met a race official who had some Coke and cups, offering us some before the climb. I was feeling a bit flat, so grabbed half a cup and took some with a gel. It did the trick, caffeine and gel kicked in just as the climb started to get some steepness to it. A few of the group who I'd been with had got ahead when I stopped, but slowly I picked them off one-by-one on the way up. The climb was the easiest of the 3 days, short and gentle. About 1 hour 50 in, I hit the top before the short trek up to Counts Point, the lookout where we were to get our bib numbers checked off, again.
But the trek to the lookout was once again on a very rough track, you almost had to hop from one rock to another if you wanted to do anything other than walk. I was keen to keep moving at pace, so rock hopping I went. Probably not the most energy-efficient forward motion, but to hell with it, I felt good and the day was still young. Was good here, seeing the runners ahead of you coming back down, everyone giving a cheer and encouragement to everyone else. Heaps of camaraderie on the trail, we may have been racing one another, but the general vibe was we always look after each other.
Counts Point had the most stunning views (see pic above). A quick stop, a photo was taken, and then I headed back down the way I'd come, spotting all the runners behind me. 7 minutes for 700 metres back down to the trail I'd climbed (and it was a descent) gave an indication of the trail surface condition. From the peak, until we got off the ridge, was about 4k and no issues with working out where the trail went, just follow the ridgeline. But, like the trail to the lookout, it was rough and tricky with the occasional easy section that could be run. I was feeling good, so kept moving as quickly as I could over this terrain (truth be told, just wanted to get off this section).
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| Counts Point lookout. Very much a wow factor moment, seeing that view as we approached it. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
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| This literally was the 'trail' along the ridgeline. In other words, "Runnable, quite runnable if you're nimble on your feet" 😂 Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
17k mark (exactly on my watch) marked where the descent proper from the ridge started. Fairly gentle and winding around, you could go down at a slow jog, every now and then having to stop after the inevitable half-trip/stumble. Regain confidence, start jogging again. Caught the group in front, by now just 3, and it's Darian, Matt, and Mark. Mark is vying for a podium in my age group and pushing along nicely to hold his overall placing. By now, passing the back end of the short course runners, the 4 of us are moving down at a safe, steady pace, knowing full well, even after the next aid station, it is at least 12 to 13k to the end. Halfway down the descent, and it steepens up dramatically. On one of the steps down, I half trip, flailing arms and nearly, just nearly faceplant. So close. Mark has a quick look around and checks on me. I'm fine, but the heart rate has hit the roof...
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| On the gentle section of the descent. In front of me, Mark, Darian and Matt. runner in black had just flown past us. |
The descent is just under 2 and a half k, and the further we drop, the warmer it starts to get. No longer a breeze to cool us, the heat slowly rises the longer we are in the open. The last k and a bit in has a few good sections we can run, Matt out the front dictating pace. We'd hike the climbs but run everything else. Not far out from the aid station, a runner comes up behind us, fast, and puffing hard from the exertion. She tucks in behind us for a bit, then next climb that we hike, she runs past, but working really hard. If she keeps that up, she'll smash out a great time. Or go bust very quickly. It's a massive gamble, this far out.
Aid station at 20k, Serpentine Gorge. There isn't much here, except the aid and vollies. Once again, Kylie is here, a welcome sight on this long hot day. Another volunteer here spies my hat and asks if I was one of the volunteers from Hut 2 Hut. Even out here, that race has notoriety! Fill up on cake, Coke, grab some Hydralite and put in my flask, and make sure they are filled up for what looks like 13k to the finish.
I'm feeling okay, good to get in here, but knowing how far to go with the heat rising somewhat, I was not really looking forward to this section. Martin and Pat came in with a couple of other runners, just as I was leaving. Knowing they were close made me focus on heading out and getting started again. Crossed the ubiquitous dry creek bed, up a road for a short distance before turning right back onto the Larapinta Trail again. I was back on my own and drifting in my thoughts again. Just trying to work out how I was going to attack this section. Go hard for as long as possible and hang on? Or keep it conservative and see if there is enough left for a crack near the end?
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| Kylie volunteered all but 1 day of the event. An Alice Springs local, she was cheerful and bubbly every time we saw her on course. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
I was still mulling this over as I climbed a steep little pinch that was more rock-bouldering and scramble than run. When you guessed it, Billy Joels Uptown Girl sprang back into my head for a 2nd day running (excuse the pun). Oh, bugger off, as if I don't have enough on my plate currently? Round and round it went, like some demonic 7-inch vinyl. To try and blindside it, I played hopscotch on the rocks on the next descent. Kinda worked, it also helped me focus on the terrain and keeping safe.
As the next section of trail opened out and I was up for a run, I noticed a runner slowly coming up behind me. As we would often wear completely different kit to the day before, it wasn't until a runner would get close that we would recognise them. But as he got closer, I could say I'd never seen him before during the event. He could have been way ahead on all 3 previous days, having a shocker today, or keeping it easy. He could be having a great day today, where previously he'd been well behind me. Neither. He'd been holidaying in Alice and was spotted by another competitor who went up to him and asked him, "You running Larapinta?"
He'd replied, "What's that?". 15 minutes later he's enquiring about signing up.
He'd replied, "What's that?". 15 minutes later he's enquiring about signing up.
WHAT? Jesus, I entered this race 18 months ago, been training for it for the last 5!
"And you guys are awesome, 4 days straight, backing up. You're looking real strong!"
I know he's not being deprecating, he is genuinely in awe of what we are doing. But man, signing up the day before, for even today? Brave, foolish, or both! I take my hat off to him. And on top of that, he'd hardly run during 2020, nothing to race for, etc. He acknowledged that the lack of running may come back at him later, but at the moment he's happy to stick with me as we push along this section. His name was Darius (not to be confused with my friend, Darian) and he had a good pedigree running ultras, so no stranger to pain, suffering, and despair 😉 It was nice to share the trail, chat a bit. Billy Joel finally consigned to a straight-jacket in a padded cell of my mind, for the time being.
"And you guys are awesome, 4 days straight, backing up. You're looking real strong!"
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| Looking back over what I just came through. This was one of the many rocky outcrops we navigated on the final 13k. |
My recollection of most of this is that it had flat runnable sections, interspersed by hard rocky outcrops that were difficult to scramble over. It was hot too, the hottest I'd felt of the 4 days. I had enough water but was conscious of rationing it in case I was about to have a major slowdown. And after nearly 20 hours of competition, I eventually get a visible injury. Not a stack, but a cut on the leg from a tree limb, sticking out of the side of the trail as I turned around a sharp corner. Never saw it, just felt the slicing on my shin. As is the want of the body, mid-activity, it bled profusely. Looked much worse than it actually was. But a week later, taking a long time to heal, it was a bit deep...
30k ticked over on my watch. Sometime before this, my body had indicated that was it for the day. I'd come over a bit cold and clammy, shivered in the heat of the day. A sign I'd well and truly hit the wall. All there was to do for now was hike it in. I tried eating, but my mouth was drier than the surrounding landscape. A gel just stuck to my mouth, my hands, my face. Hydralite, or water it was from now on. As we descended one of the small outcrops of rock, I spotted a runner ahead that we were catching fairly fast. I recognised him as a runner in my event, not a slow runner back-of-pack in the short course. He was favouring a leg, and sure enough, when we caught him, found out he'd rolled an ankle on the big climb. That was a long, long time ago. He was okay, just soldiering on. Nothing we could do except alert race officials when we finished. Darius and I pushed on. But within a kilometre, he was coming back up behind us again, having worked out he can trot fairly well on the easy trail that descends.
Pretty soon he's run back past me again. We are 2 k out, I can make out the cliffs of Ellery Waterhole. My thoughts drift again. Thinking that Martin and Pat should have caught me by now, I'm going slower than a month of Sundays. Hope they're okay. A runner does come up behind me, Jacqui, so no, not them. We are just starting a gentle 1k descent towards the finish line and I notice Darius has dropped behind (cramps, his calves finally giving up). I'm getting a second wind as I near the end. Soon enough, the car park comes into view and the trail drops down to cross a dry creek bed, for one last time. (Motto of this race: dry creek beds will continue until morale improves!). In front of me are Jacqui and the runner with the buggered ankle. I cross the creek, climb up the other side, and can hear the clapping and cheers of the finish line as the 2 in front cross it. Hit a paved path that leads to the waterhole and is lined with flags and markers. As I approach, I'm trying to work out how we go through the finish chute. Then I work it out, we run down to the water's edge, then turn back up. I'm tempted to just run straight into the water but don't as I need to stop this watch, finish the race and complete the event.
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| If you're going to finish, finish in style! Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
Nicky is there, holding one side of a banner as I run through it, thinking I'm winning a prestigious major marathon, not mid-field, day 4 of an ultra 😂 I hunch over, the effort and energy burnt over the last 4 days finally catching up with me. A wave of emotion comes over me; not sad, nor happy, nothing really. Probably just an overreaction to finishing. It quickly passes and I acknowledge the race officials as they hand me my pannikin with an ice-cold can of Coke in it.
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| The photo was taken just as my brain was saying, "Get the hell out before extremities fall off!" Karen on my right, female vintage age group winner. Photo credit: http://themattimage.com |
And that was that, all over. 34k in 5 hours 33 minutes. 4 days of racing, 4 days of mentally preparing and backing up. (It took me about 3 days for it to really sink in, what I'd achieved. What we'd all achieved, to tell you the truth). Despite warnings that the waterhole was F cold, I went in anyway. Why not, I'd imagined finishing here since they announced the stage changes, it would have been rude, not too. And yep, it was freezing!
The Washup
It's fair to say I found this grueling and a real test for me. But I finished it and was more than happy with my efforts. I know there are more difficult events around, longer, steeper, harder terrain; but this was my Everest. Day 2 being the hardest single day I've had, and then having to back that up for another 2 days made cumulative fatigue a real issue. But hey, I didn't die! Today was probably tougher than day 3, but not by much. It just felt damn harder as the body ran out of energy with about 10k to go.
Would I do this again? On every one of the last 3 days, I would have said no. But now, in the comfort of home, and looking back, maybe is the answer. Certainly would like to head back and see the scenery again.
And like the pufferfish in Finding Nemo after they escape the aquarium in the dentists, 'wot next'? A few races penciled in, but not entered as I wait for the mind and body to recover before deciding what I want to achieve. Until then, bask in the glory of the most recent race.
And like the pufferfish in Finding Nemo after they escape the aquarium in the dentists, 'wot next'? A few races penciled in, but not entered as I wait for the mind and body to recover before deciding what I want to achieve. Until then, bask in the glory of the most recent race.
One Final Note
I shared this experience with a great bunch of wonderful people. Many were friends that I have known for years. Many others that I only met on Wednesday, and may never see again. But we shared a bond and a common goal, and you made it a memorable event. The following is a selection of photos of the runners that I remember sharing the trail with, some banter, or post-race chats, whose paths we crossed briefly. If you are reading this, and don't see your photo, apologies. But you were all part of the wonderful vibe of the event.
Note: All the following images courtesy of Matt Hull from http://themattimage.com
Note: All the following images courtesy of Matt Hull from http://themattimage.com
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| # 32 Jacqui from Westerfolds was always close by. As was # 40, Aaron. we spent 3 of the 4 days pretty much together for most of the day. #43 Mark, also a Westerfoldian was in my age group and vying for a podium. |
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| Got to admire a runner who signs up the night before an event! Darius hung in on day 4 went it got tough. |
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| Casie, a fellow 605 runner. Actually met her at the race! |
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| #35 Pat, and #36 Martin were in my age group. And just quietly, we were probably racing each other without acknowledging as much. In the end, 14 minutes separated us after 4 days and 21 hours. |
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| Chantele is a good friend, but I hardly saw her as she was racing the short course. Her rusty first aid skills desperately needed on day 2, patching up a fellow runner after a nasty fall. |
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| Kylie, best friend of one of my best friends. She had a great event, and lovely to catch up. We also worked out my boss and her husband are friends. Small world... |
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| Judy (left) and Steph (right) talking to Sam Maffet (RD). They ran the whole way together, even had matching kit. But were always up for a chat, and so enthusiastic to not just me, but every other runner. |
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| Shared a large part of day 2 with Jacqui (#51), especially over the big climb. An accomplished ultra runner, we chatted about mutual races we'd done and their relative difficulty compared to this day! |
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| Tani was always there or thereabouts on the days we were close to each other. But invariably came home stronger, always running with a smile. |
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| Like Tani, Lonneke was always somewhere around me as we raced. |
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| Jackie was racing at the rear of the field, but I shared a table with her at the awards night after day 3. Training in Echuca did not prepare her for the climbs here. |
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| Sarah and I played leapfrog on a number of days, particularly day 2 in the endless hamster wheel of dry creek beds! |
The song that the blog title is inspired by. Inertia creeps pretty much described the last 10k of both of these days.
