Terry Davis and his team have created a monster, and the brutality of the Northburn 100 has me hobbling like a geriatric this morning!!
Having never raced a miler outside of Australia, it was time to take myself outside my ‘comfort zone’. My only previous experience is the GNW100, (with 5,500m ascent) completing it four times.
This 161km race has 10,000m of vertical, treeless exposed terrain, with weather that can blow you off the mountains and a laughing sadist race director in Terry.
(Whom, it must be noted, picked me up personally from my B&B in Cromwell at 5:10am on the morning of the race. Terry I’m truly grateful.)
I’ve never felt so nervous in the weeks preceding. Fear, excitement and my first time visiting New Zealand; it seemed like a big step for me ‘racing’ across the ‘ditch’.
The race itself is three different loops (50km, 50km and 61km), each with increasing ascent and difficulty level. Names like the ‘Loop of Despair’ and ‘Loop of Deception’ constantly remind you that if there’s a downhill option, that’s not the way you’ll be going!!!
0 – 50km: 2600m
All three races set off together (50km, 100km and 100mile). The 6am start was slightly delayed as tracking devices were checked. A countdown from 10 and we were off. (Online tracking by ‘YatchtBot‘ proved to be a really cool way family and mates could watch, in real time, the race unfold.)
Still dark, the almost two hundred head torches formed a procession of runners, beginning a day or/and a night or possibly 2 nights (48 hr cut off for milers) in the Central Otago mountains just outside Cromwell, on New Zealand’s south island.
For myself it was a matter of finding a rhythm, not worrying about anyone else and striking that balance between conserving the quads for later, but keeping the pace honest.
It wasn’t long before the crowds were thinned by the early hills. The usual chatty banter was minimal due to the dark start, but also the regular inclines had folks focusing on what was in front of them, and what was to come.
RD Terry Davis’ race briefing the day before had made it clear and in no uncertain terms, that you enter this race because it’s a total ‘bastard’. And that’s exactly what you’d get.
Seemingly unnecessary descents back down one side of a mountain would be available, but only to provide horrific ascents right back to where you started via a loop of some sort. He loved it! He was only partially disappointed that the weather wouldn’t live up to the previous year’s 100km/hr winds, that literally blew race leader Charlie Sharpe (UK) over a fence and off a ridge?!! The tag line ‘Northburn – you don’t race it, you survive it’ was a feature he relished.
It was even joked by Dan Bleakman, on the ultrarunning website Ultra168, that athletes may be eligible for a refund for overly mild weather conditions!!!
Quite frankly I was over the moon.
Taking advantage of the cloud cover I wanted to make sure the first 50km loop was as painless as possible in the relatively cool conditions.
Little groups were forming towards the front and I soon realised that including two 100k’ers and a couple of 50kers, I was in the front 13 or 14.
I ran a fair chunk of this section with Jeremy Spencer who’d also ran in last years GNW miler in Oz, as well as bumping into Steve Pemberton doing the 100km.
The most memorable parts were the ‘moon-scaped’ uneven terrain and stunning crystal clear water that ran through soft mossy meandering streams, interspersed with vicious ‘Prickly Spaniards’.
On the downside the unsure footing rolled my feet and hip stabilising muscles. My rubbing wet feet and heels were also becoming a slight issues. Blisters! I hadn’t really considered something as basic as that to derail things.
Completing the first 50km I arrived back at the Home Base marquee in around 6:30hrs, with 2600m of vert behind me. Ready to roll, but without crew, I was careful to dry my feet and change into fresh socks. I refuelled and was out in about 10-12 mins.
50 – 100km: 3750m
In a rearrangement of two years previous, circuit two now began with the ‘death march’. A 15 km straight up, vertical trudge.
Jeremy who’d caught me in the cp with a very slick crew, was alongside for the plod. We marched on….
A few rare switch backs allowed for a brief couple of trots, the shaking kit in my ridiculously loaded pack (6-7kg) gave me the impression he was sitting right on my shoulder. It took some time to realise I was slowly creating a gap.
As we gained altitude I could see others up ahead. Not close enough to stress about, but nice to gain an insight. I mentally noted rock outcrops they were passing, checked my watch and timed the difference, 7-8mins. It helped! Not only to gauge the competition, but also how long the visually insane incline would take me; it always pleasantly surprised me and helped maintain a positivity that was growing with each stride.
The cloud cover was gone by now and with zero trees, everyone was fully exposed to the sun.
There is nowhere to hide, Terry’s new tag line.
‘Leaning Rock’ and ‘TW’ provide aid and drop bags check points, but also have out and back sections.
The leader Martin Kern (FRA) was returning, and we briefly shouted words of encouragement.
30mins later Steve Pemberton, was running towards me. Steve was looking strong and said he was first male in the 100km but 2nd overall to female Jess Carroll up ahead. I whooped and congratulated him and told him to finish it off and go hunting..
Within only a couple of mins Ryan Kunz (USA) and three others were approaching, he informed me he was 4th in miler, 6th overall. The others were descending fast.
This was cool, I was seeing the race unfold in front of me.
And then I realised, the turnaround was just up ahead. I was 10th or 11th, but places 5-9 were only just ahead. Sweeet!
And then I checked myself! We were barely half way and with pretty much the whole second loop descent still install, and the most brutal third, 60km loop/night section, still to do.
I decided to ‘calm the farm’. Let the carnage unfold and see what would happen.
As to be expected, the 18km downhill back to Home Base was anything but.
Eventually I reach the power line trail back to the start/finish, a never ending ‘undulating’ 10km saw me complete the second loop and 100km in 14:15hrs, just after dark.
(There was no sign of Steve in the 100km men’s race. He hadn’t arrived?? Turns out, very soon after I spoke to him, he’d took a wrong turn before TW and ended up doing the whole of the insane “water race”. It must have added on hours. Monumentally unlucky mate!!)
I was in and out of the checkpoint at Home Base more quickly this time. With no wet socks to change, it was a simple matter of empty my rubbish and refill the pack. I noticed that my food uptake (baby food and Cliffbars) had gone down and I’d survived much of the second 50km on the Trailbrew powder in my water bladder and chest bottles. (I wasn’t overly concerned, but released I’d have to keep a close eye on my nutrition, if I was to prevent any energy disasters later.)
Switching on the Ayup head torch, my path ahead was lit up like a lighthouse. I went out and back along the road for a couple of km’s, before the marshals, shouting encouragement, now directed me left.
Looking up the ominous first climb I caught glimpses of other head torches. They were a long way off but they were there!! With still almost 4,000m of climbing on the remaining 60km loop, there was no need to panic. I was feeling good now and moving well, particularly on the ascents. Hike, hike, hike!!! As fast as I could stride, I kept pushing.
To be honest I had really no idea what was in store this loop. In short I knew it was up, up, up and then some ugly circuits around TW at the summit area. Aside from that it was head down and move forward.
Lights above in the darkness told me that I still had steep stuff ahead, but it was hard to gauge the terrain outside of my immediate beam of my light.
Jean Beaumont (NZ) in 8th was the first person I caught. She was looking strong and it wouldn’t be long before we’d be at TW cp, now the 115km mark.
I ran into the aid station and quickly refilled and attempted to eat one of the chia and coconut pots I’d made. I’d barely opened it, took a glance at the slimy contents and start retching from the depths of my guts. The speed the volunteer backed away was impressive. I laughed and told her not to worry,
“There’s not enough food in there to make a mess.”
Immediately I realised it was Coke time. I’d had to do this once before, so know that it can work. I’d already been knocking back occasional drinks of the syrupy ‘doctor’, but knew now I’d pretty much have to switch to it exclusively.
I filled my two 600ml chest bottles with it and got out of there fast. One minute later I was straight back in. Oops. I’d realised how cold it was (just before midnight) and with a very long descent, before coming back to this aid station twice more, I changed into my long sleeved merino thermal.
Second attempt and I was out. Jean was now just behind due to my faffing around, but I was happier for the decision. Making my way down the never-ending descent of the 11km “Loop of Despair”, I wondered if we were still on track.
Soon though, I passed another runner in the dark (7th) with his pacer. He sounded like he was doing it tough and was now moving slowly. Down, down, down. All the time knowing, the longer I descended the longer the return would be. At an impromptu toilet stop Jean caught and passed me, but as we began the big climb I was feeling strong and positive. Possibly the sugar and caffeine from the coke!!!
I re-passed her and marched on. At times the steepness was ridiculous. I figured, (obviously) it was no more steep to me than anyone else, and as long as I was moving with more purpose than others, I wasn’t hindering my cause.
Bizarrely I was starting to enjoy this. It was the middle of the night, I was on a mountain in the middle of NZ and I feeling invincible.
Up ahead another runner (6th). This was just getting better. I was soon alongside previous winner Glenn Sutton (NZ). He said something kind about my efforts and I asked how he was going? But now wasn’t the time to start chatting, so I moved on.
We’d moved into the pointy phase of the event and as my coach Andy DuBois says;
“If you can race, now’s the time!!”
Soon I was back into TW, Coke refilled, then out and up to ‘Leaning Rock’ at the summit 3km away. Within 500m of the top I couldn’t believe I’d closed in on Sho Watabe (JPN) the 5th place runner. The aid station crew were in tents on the freezing ridge up there. We reported our numbers, and immediately turn around. He kept close for a while, before we met a car, placed to signal the point where you’re ‘thrown’ off the side of the mountain, down a virtually unmarked trail. The ‘Water Race’, is exactly what you don’t want at 129km. Ropes are tied to prevent runners falling backwards along heavily sloped hillsides.
I occasionally checked behind and could see head torches of those I’d passed getting dimmer.
The next ascent was exactly what I’d come to expect by now, steep and long. At least it was now on an easy to navigate, unsealed road.
I ran into TW for the final time and refilled with Coke. (This would have been a good time to jettison all unnecessary food that was weighing me down. Like a ‘security blanket’ I clung to it; just in case?)
Sitting in 5th place and heading towards a time that was way beyond all expectations, I began to run hard. This was it. 139km done: 21km to go. The tracks were runnable and I started to stride out.
Some parts were retraced, others were new. I got excited a few times when those completing the 100km event came into sight.
The miler then veers to the right, for the final climb. With only 13km remaining, another 500m hike is thrown in for good luck. Seriously!!!
Mid-way up I did get very excited, as a light ahead was moving very slowly and I hoped it was Ryan Kunz in 4th. Sadly for both me and the guy in question is wasn’t. He was a miler completing his second loop and had unnecessarily ventured up, instead of ahead for the undulating approach of the second loop.
Finally the summit!
The home straight and remaining 7km was non-technical and very runnable. I checked my watch and for the first time realised the time: 24:15hrs.
I’d hoped to finish under 30hrs, maybe sub 27hrs if everything really went well. Now though I was reassessing. All I could think was exactly what I’d visualised in previous races: another Andy tip.
Picture the time and tell yourself nothing else will do.
And so I did. Sub 25, something starting with 24:??hrs, nothing else will do.
At an intersection I passed Marina Brun, (who I’d car shared and flown over from Australia) going out on her last loop. She’s done this beast a few times and was more than a little apprehensive this time about cut-off times. To be honest she’d scared the shit out of me over the two days leading up to the race.
I was over the moon to see her heading out, she was going to do it easily, (and did: finishing in a superb sub 40hrs). We hastily shouted our support to each other.
I picked up the pace, rounded a few corners, passed the final enthusiastic volunteers in the bottom car and along the flat road that approaches the vineyard.
It was still dark, I honestly couldn’t believe it; I crossed the line in 24:51hrs, stunned!!!!
I literally stood there swearing in disbelief. I wasn’t meant to be there so soon, crossing the line in 5th place overall, 1st in my age category (40-49). I’d been petrified by the prospect of this race, but there I was.
Even writing this, I still haven’t processed the feeling of gratitude and happiness I got from this event. I’m still buzzing!
And there it is…… Northburn you are amazing!
A huge thanks to everyone who sits out all night volunteering and making events like this possible and to everyone who has supported me in the 5 months leading up to this one!!
“Buffalo Stampede Grand Slam”, Bright, Victoria, Australia 8th, 9th & 10th April 2016
Perhaps it helped?
I hadn’t broken my toe and smashed my quad, would I have run faster? F***! What if?
Maybe it kicked my ego in to touch; I’d have to think and plan smarter
Injury & Disaster
Help or hindrance?
It’s been more than month since I completed The Grand Slam at ‘The Buffalo Stampede’, and I haven’t stopped pondering the above thoughts.
Even though the final six weeks of my perfect preparation had been totally rail-roaded by not one, but two injuries; I began to wonder if it had actually been the reason things had eventually gone so well. Had it helped?
What Occurred? Sky Running
There are many other endurance events, but this was Sky Running.
Sky Races can be the toughest thing most runners have ever tackled…
For me Buffalo literally presented new horizons. It had ascent and descent, the like of which few other races include, and that’s just in the first 12km.
Generally it’s about steepness… As much vert up and down as can be squeezed into the course. The three days consisted of a 26km, 77km and a 42km with the option of entering all three; The Grand Slam 144km & 9672m elevation. This was my intended race; I’d be one of the ‘Slammers’.
INJURY #1. Six Weeks to Race Day
‘The curious incident of the cockroach in the night’
Injuries rarely come at a good time, but with my training going perfectly, I was on top of things. I was running quicker across training routes than ever and feeling stronger.
And then there was the cockroach.
It was 4am Sunday morning and my son, Sandy, was ill. While I was up seeing to him, a cockroach the size of a ‘mouse’ ran across the bathroom floor. We rarely get them upstairs and picking up the laundry basket I went for the triple smash…. This thing just shook it off or teleported??? Then it ran under the bathroom mat beside the wall. I’m not a big killer of creatures generally, but if I do, I want it to be painless and instant.
I swung my right foot and stamped as hard as I could. The mat instantly skidded towards the wall and my big toe smashed into it. Anything but painless… the bloody cocky ‘legged it’ across the floor and hid behind the toilet. Meanwhile I hopped up and down trying not to wake the rest of the family by swearing under my breath.
Picking up some mouthwash, I poured a cap-full onto the vicious beast. It flipped onto its back and almost instantly stopped wriggling!!
The radiographer arrived and the doctor confirmed what I really didn’t want to hear: The cockroach was alive… Nah!
Doc: “yeah you’ve broken your big toe”
Me:“…..but I have a race in six weeks!!
Doc: “ah… well I reckon you’ll make the event, give it fourteen days. How far is it?”
Me: “It’s a… errmm….about 144km, it’s a three day running event..”
Doc: “oh!? You may want to see how it feels then?”
Two weeks… it seemed like the end of the world. I couldn’t believe it. The ridiculousness of it.. The karma, irony, stupidity?! How did I feel at the time? Gutted, doesn’t come close. This was an absolute disaster!
At first it was just annoying, like a couple of days off. Soon though, the doubt and frustration started to kick in. But I knew I’d put in good groundwork; my body was holding up, I was feeling good and gaining confidence. What now?
Pragmatism: “Ok, it is what it is,” I thought.
Coach Andy suggested cycling. I hit the same Broken Head trail road I’d run on and, gingerly at first, used my 20 yr old ‘mountain bike’. It had some benefit but, as Andy and I agreed, it couldn’t replace running.
Kriss Hendy wrote me a gym programme to keep me ticking over. I’ve never really ‘done’ gyms, but Kriss quickly put me at ease. He showed me around some of the equipment I could use that would be running specific; his guidance allowed me to maintain my strength and have some focus.
Nevertheless my fitness felt like it was ebbing away. I’d had very little experience in dealing with this sort of frustration. What if I went all that way just to DNF on the 2nd or 3rd day?
All but two of last year’s entrants DNF’d.
I wanted to give a good account of myself. And not just finish it but be ready to be as competitive as I could.
(Racing ‘down south’, in the Victorian Alps for the first time, I’d booked flights, rented a car and paid the entry fee. The financial outlay began to mentally exaggerate the wastefulness of my ‘actions’. Thankfully I was able to crash at a mate’s (Cam O’Leary), who was racing the Sky Marathon on the Sunday.)
Two Weeks Later Things Start to ‘Look Up’
I’d had a couple of sneaky trots, but not ‘ran’ properly. Fifteen days later, I went out for about 45 minutes. I focussed on keeping my foot as flat as possible and feeling for any sharp pains. All good. It just felt nice to be moving.
I only did 70km that week, but started to regain a little confidence. By the following 100km+ week we’d introduced a hill rep session and speed work (not full-on). I’d missed a few of the long runs, so was keen to get one in, before thoughts of tapering arose. Things were looking Bright, Victoria.
INJURY #2. Three Weeks to Race Day
LEFT QUAD HAEMATOMA.
‘a polite good morning, and crash’
The summit of Mount Warning, NSW is just over 1150m and so, if started from the bottom river crossing (elevation approx. 50m), you ‘benefit’ from the whole climb.
If I did it three times I’d be gaining about 3000m ascent and descent over 40km+. Perfect.
Crash, Bang, Wallop
Bouncing along very nicely on my 2nd descent, I’d greeted and ran around numerous day walkers. But on a particularly wet boulder section, I looked up to say good morning to two older gents. My right foot slipped outwards towards a small drop off, my left leg went the same way; horizontally I crashed to the ground, landing perfectly on my left quad and Iliotibial Band (IT Band).
Avoiding my knee and hip seemed like a small blessing. The pain was intense. Like a massive dead leg. The two fellas asked if I’d broken anything. Still holding my breath I gave them the thumbs up and whispered “I think I’m all good, thanks”.
Keep on Running
I finished the run – including another final ascent and very painful descent.
Surprisingly, over the next few days I was able to run, so I did.
By midweek the feeling in my quad was ‘weird’. It felt like lumpy jelly. Fluid had built up in-between the muscle tissue and the doctor informed me I had a fairly decent haematoma (solid swelling of clotted blood within the tissues). He added that although initially rest would have been wiser, at this stage and with bruising appearing in my calves, mobility and running was as good as anything.
When I was running, it felt fine. But man, whenever I sat, and then stood up?! It was not good; an intense ‘painful’ sensation spreading towards my knee.
Well at least I was running. Although things were anything but perfect now.
What if I was doing more damage? The race was only two and a half weeks away. I’d lost so much training time. Maybe I shouldn’t even make the trip down, if it could end up being pointless.
Help or Hindrance?
The uncertainty, the fear, the ‘risk’ – did something potentially positive. It reeled me in. My confidence had been severely dealt a blow and so inevitably my ego was firmly left at the starting line.
And so it began…..Day 1 : 26km Elevation – 2013m
My toe and quad were holding up and I hadn’t had any trouble at all in my last training runs. I was worried I was undertrained from the weeks lost, but tried to tell myself ‘better to be undercooked’.
The first of three days saw me conservatively start and find a pace that delivered me 26km later (over some seriously ugly, steep trail) to the finish line; feeling strong, laughing and actually enjoying this thing.
5th place : 3hr 49mins
Day 2 : 77km Elevation –4654m
The 77km Ultra Sky Race had seen many of last years ‘Slammers’ pull the pin, either during or after this one.
Although cautious, my toe and quad injuries had given me little to worry about, in fact I’d barely had to think about them.
I woke up feeling pretty good on Saturday morning. Whooping, cow bells, cheering and the race was underway. I set off exactly the same as Day 1 and ran within a minute or two of the previous days turn around point.
The bottom-line had to be to get through today unscathed and be ready for Day 3. Look after the toe and quad, and carefully pace myself through todays 77km’s. Be on that starting line tomorrow.
The summit of Buffalo is only halfway and then it’s ‘back the way you came’. It’s an amazing event. Athletes from the Ultra, as well as fellow Slammers supported each other constantly, cow bell touting crew and volunteers were lining sections of the course. My adopted crew were unreal! Cam O’Leary with his family and mates were here for his Sky Marathon the next day, with friend Duncan Gow. They’d all stepped forward to help.
I crossed the line and finished feeling pretty good…. How would the nights recovery go?
Leaving beautiful Bright
Cam O’Leary at Buckland Valley
Almost at Chalet
5th place : 11hrs 57 mins (Total 15hrs 39mins)
Day 3 : 42.2km Elevation – 3005
The final day! The main focus of my whole event, as far as I’ve seen it. My alarm wakes me and the first thing I think is;
“right! how’s the legs? how’s the toe?”
A final horizontal stretch and I clamber to my feet in the dark. I shake them a bit and find they still belong to me. I slowly make my way to the bathroom and then onto the kitchen. I do a ten metre jog around and smile.
I Reckon This Thing’s Gunna Get Done.
I took off pretty much the same as the previous two days and hit the early hills (Mystic and Clearspot), with the poles and the same effort as before.
Mystic with sticks
Buffalo in the distance
Eurobin with Cam and Duncan
But now on the downhill sections and particularly on the flats, I could move with much more purpose. I didn’t have to concern myself with tomorrow for the first time all weekend. I pushed along feeling strong.
Even the final “Big Walk”, a 10km ascent up to Mount Buffalo was disappearing beneath my feet and head, faster than the day before. Now with 130 of the weekend km’s behind me, I was shifting, power hiking and running. The last 8km’s even include a short narrow squeeze through a cave section. I crossed the line in 6hrs 16mins; total time 22hrs 03mins. Grand Slammed!
O’Leary and Co – Awesome crew
With Pat and Christian
Get ya trophies out
“This is your day”
Maybe it Kicked My Ego in to Touch; I’d Had to Think and Plan Smarter
The extra planning and preparation had panned out nicely:
I was the 4th ‘Slammer’ to cross the line on Day 3, only a few minutes behind the 1st and 2nd placed lads.
Finishing competitively had been the goal!
I’d completed it an hour quicker than last year’s winning time which had been my only comparison pre event.
I’d secured the 4th place for the overall ‘Grand Slam’ too… Woohooo!!!
I was over the moon.
I had trained well. On race day nothing went wrong and I paced myself (personally) to perfection.
The Toe & The Fall?
It caused two weeks of missed training. I’d have been in better shape and ran faster. But maybe it reeled me in and helped me respect the challenge. Achievable and digestible. I’d approached each day calmly and simply.
With a clean bill of health I could have gone out too fast, not paced myself and ended up with a DNF!!! Or could I have made up twenty minutes here or there?
When I look back at the race I remember how conservative it had felt. But those time differences are costly and require faster quad smashing descents and risk the main thing I personally fear – uncooperative legs!!!
Will I Ever Know?
I’ve ran races that have had perfect preparation go ‘pear shaped’. In this case, the unintentional accidents/injuries and sweaty km’s locked in my legs, combined to make this race not just a successful weekend, but simply more fun. I genuinely had a ball. I’d learned heaps alone from running a three day ‘staged’ event. My nutrition was dialled, my aid station stops got quicker and my pacing all improved considerably. Success!!!!?
In searching for a specific conclusion, I fear I have failed… It’s just not that simple.
But as ‘what if?’ questions induce ‘Interstella” scenarios, with infinite possibilities, I had this genuine last minute thought …..
Was There a Best Path?
The one I had; was the one I got. It was the best path, because this time it worked out.
More importantly my legs held up.
(Cheers heaps for reading. Leave a comment or share; it’s nice to have folks read it!!)
“We’re expecting our flight to be 18 minutes ahead of schedule today, due to the tailwind”, the Jetstar pilot announced, as we departed Gold Coast Airport going to Newcastle, NSW.
Looking out from the window, Jules pointed to the view outside and smiled.
I nodded and began to laugh….. I’m not a believer in good omen, luck or superstition really, but coincidence is a funny thing. At that very point, we were flying directly over Nightcap National Park and the telecommunications tower below was Mount Nardi.
This stunning, rainforest covered section of the Mount Warning volcanic caldera; about 25km west of Byron Bay, is exactly where we’d spent hours on Sunday morning’s training. In addition, I’d be using ‘Tailwind Nutrition’ for the first time, in an attempt to overcome past issues I’d had with calorie intake, and so, if the pilot was correct “tailwind” would have me “ahead of schedule”.
It’s true to say I’ve become slightly obsessed with the Great North Walks 100’s. As an Ultra marathon it is a low key, yet spectacular and gruelling event, with the most incredibly friendly organisers and helpful volunteers.
My two previous attempts at the 108.9 mile/ 175.3km (2013 and 2014) had been marred by major navigation cock ups, as well as my stomachs refusal to accept anything, once I’d ran passed about 120km.
I just wanted to get it right. Both previous attempts (33hrs 45mins and 31hrs 22mins) had quietly pissed me off. Not because of the finishing times, 2013 was my first ever ultra over 50km, (I finished it and was over the moon, in 38°C heat – a surprise to me as much as anything else – 75% didn’t finish that year), but the silly mistakes I’d made each year partly wrecked the final outcomes.
Yeah, learning experiences, I know!!
Without crew or pacer this year, it would be all about my preparation and planning.
I’d had the good fortune to have Mile27 coach Andy DuBois move into the area. I couldn’t believe my luck. I’d met him briefly in 2013 and he’d attended a few of the Thursday evening Byron Bay Runner’s pub runs. As the GNW approached, I sent him an email nothing short of begging him to coach me. Andy not only has an amazing knowledge of all things ‘Ultra’, a list as long as your arm of personal achievements, has both ‘elite’ and ‘normal’ international athlete success stories, but also knows the GNW race, as well as the terrain available to me around Byron Bay and its hinterland.
Thankfully he agreed and we met where all the greatest plans are hatched – the pub! And so began my first coached programme since I was in my teens. The confidence and variety Andy gave me in training, made it not only relevant, effective and injury free, but fun. I loved it!! I looked forward to 5-8hr Sunday long runs, hill sessions, even tempo/speed sessions?!!!!
The start : Tulkaba Park, Teralba, NSW. 6am.
Me Dave Byrnes pre race briefing Jules Devlin
Register, weigh in, mandatory equipment check, place drop bags in the relevant 6 check point boxes and assemble for the race briefing with Race Director Dave Byrnes. The morning was cold, but the place was buzzing. I couldn’t wait to get started. This year the start line was on the grass sports ground (it’s usually on the road) and again, police and safety required all competitors wear a high visibility vest, on all road and night sections.
All smiles and ready to go. (Jules photo)
And they’re off. (GNW100 photo)
No music blasting, PA system or gun, just Dave telling us to get going and we were off.
The first 7kms of this 175.3km race are on road and head toward our section of the larger 260km Great North Walk trail.
Early days (GNW100 photo)
Heaton Gap signage (GNW100 photo)
In 2013 I’d run this event with Jules Devlin for the first 104km to Yarramalong, the fourth CP (plus a major 2hr deviation before CP 3). Here I’d begun to struggle; he just got stronger and caned the final three sections, to still go under 30 hours. He’s a great mate and training buddy from Byron Bay. Together we chatted, whilst passing through fire trail, rain forest, overhanging caves and hills.
Jules Devlin (Jules photo)
JD and Me; overhanging caves (Jules photo)
Amazing terrain (Jules photo)
We reached CP1 in great spirits alongside Levi Martin (who’d paced Jules in that epic ‘2nd half’ effort) and Dave Graham (a fellow Mile27 runner, although I hadn’t met him at this point).
28.6km down, 146.7km to go…..
Entering CP1 Dave Graham and Me (GNW100 photo)
Checkpoint 1 : Old Watagan Forestry HQ. 9:34am.
28.6km : 3hrs 34mins
The temperature had begun to creep up, but due to the races move from November to the cooler month of September (only 26-28°C), extreme Australian heat wouldn’t be as big an issue. In response to this and to add a bit of difficulty, the unmanned water stops had been removed this year, resulting in increased self-sufficiency.
The trail begins to head along a ridge and then descends to the extended road section into Congewai Public School, 23.9km away. Jules had begun to have some issues just before the descent. He’d stopped to go to the toilet and I’d continued to move along at a fairly gentle pace. I knew he’d catch me up and I’d banked on my efforts being consistent for the whole duration of the race. No pushing or slowing unnecessarily. Even effort! True enough, I looked back along an extended stretch of bitumen road and I could see him a few minutes behind.
Around me were three or four others, Kath Carty (who would go on to win the woman’s 100km event) and a few men. The usual conversations were struck, “miler or k’er”, “have you done it before”, “goal times?” etc. I pointed to a runner a few hundred metres ahead and commented that I thought it was Paul Cuthbert (I actually meant Paul Monks), both Paul’s had podium finished in 2013, 2nd and 3rd place respectively. One runner replied that he’d in fact loosely based last year’s race on Cuthbert splits, and finished under 24 hours, in 2nd place. I began to laugh,
“Well I’m gunna sound like a stalker, but you must be Dave Graham. Haha, I’ve been looking at your splits and have loosely planned my dream ‘A race’ on your schedule. Nothing concrete, but a framework to work with. I believe you’re also a one of Andy DuBois Mile27’s athletes.”
He said he was and we both chuckled, agreeing that all manner of things can happen and situations can change very quickly.
“How are we going then, are we on target”, he added.
At this stage we were bang on, and would be arriving at CP2 midday as hoped.
(Apart from navigation, and stomach/calorie issues, my check point times last year were tectonic compared to his total of only 29 minutes, for the whole event last year. Mine had been two and a half hours.)
Jules had run well along the road and we checked in within 4 minutes of each other at CP 2 (52.5km), Congewai Public School.
Checkpoint 2 – Congewai Public School. 12:12pm.
Leg 23.9km : 2hrs 33mins.
Total 52.5km : 6hrs 12mins.
My feet were feeling a bit uncomfortable so I change from a new pair of Injinji (toe socks) to a really knackered old pair. Mmm, much better! My Hoka One One Challenger ATR’s shoes were faring well too. I’d loved my minimal Inov-8 Trailroc 245’s, but their lack of mid-sole protection didn’t help with “De Agony of De Feet” in previous years. This was walking on clouds in comparison. I refilled my pack and downed some watermelon, coke and coconut water.
I was then reminded that this was the first mandatory weight and equipment check. Everything needed to be emptied back out, onto a tray and ticked off. Bugger, I’d forgotten about that. Jumping onto the scales, I’d dropped from 70.6kg to 67.8kg, not too bad, especially at this early stage. The extra time unpacking was a waste but compulsory.
Jules was already good to go and set off with Dave Coombes (running the 100km and acquiring final points for his application for the UTMB in France next year). Again we figured we’d be alongside each other at some point into the next section, so he kept moving!!
Gear check – Repacking CP2 (Jules photo)
Back out along the road the course swings right onto what looks like private property and then the ominous ‘communications tower’ climb. There were a few runners ahead and I heard one shout to a separate group that they had deviated away from the track and were heading in the wrong direction. As they made their way back toward us I burst out laughing,
“I should have bloody known who’d be leading that little detour! Dave don’t trust Jules’ navigation mate; he’s a nightmare!”
Jules protested, but I think we all know the truth mate!!!!
We regrouped as we approached the start of the climb. It was pretty warm by now, and Jules said that he and Dave were going take it easy on the ascent.
“Me too, I’m not looking to smash any ‘Strava segments’ myself.”
Occasionally it levelled slightly so I shuffled from a hike to jog and repeated this at each opportunity. Breaking out the poles (‘Black Diamond’ – Ultra Distance) I power hiked the steeper sections. Gradually, I realised I’d left the group and was moving along nicely. About half way up I could see Delina Rahmate (doing the 100 km) ahead of me. She’s an awesome endurance competitor and I’ve met her numerous times at races closer to home. We briefly spoke, but uphill conversations are rarely in-depth. Her aid station stop had been 10 minutes quicker than mine and her experience had got her back out much more quickly. I told her Dave and Jules weren’t far behind, and kept on moving up to the top.
Following a ridge, some beautiful undulating forest trail and a steep descent, is the next killer climb. When it arrives, it’s a relentless mix of ugly, uneven fire trail and single track, up to what had previously been the unmanned water stop (removed this year). Poles deployed I hiked, ran and picked off a few more runners. I was actually enjoying this. Those Sunday morning hours, running in Nightcap National Park, as well as relentless hill sessions and fell/ trail races back in the UK were paying off, this was honestly fun.
I was smiling and occasionally singing to myself. I’ve never been able to run with tunes, I enjoy music so much; it actually tends to mess with my running rhythm. When I run, I prefer the natural sounds around me or even just my feet.
For me this section is such a critical leg, and having now broken the back of the majority of it, I concentrated on getting in, and more importantly out of CP 3 during day light hours.
The out and back into CP 3 ‘The Basin Campsite’ is an uneven technical forest trail and was the location of the disastrous 2013 navigational mishap (we’d stayed on the actual GNW path without the CP detour??!!). Getting out of there in daylight makes the subsequent climb easier and puts you on track, as night falls, for a much easier descent down to the 9km road section into Yarramalong.
Checkpoint 3 – The Basin Campsite. 4:52pm.
Leg 29.2km : 4hrs 13mins.
Total 81.7km : 10hrs 52mins.
Spectacular volunteers and aid station crew jumped to attention and mobilised to help unsupported athletes. I checked-in, refuelled my pack, ate and drank coke, tea, coconut water chia porridge mix and watermelon. It took longer than planned, but it had been hot. My priority had to be to look after myself leading into the night and ensure I remained strong and consistent throughout.
I checked out and began to retrace the track to the beginning of the stepped climb. It’s only a few km’s but it takes 30-45mins. Runners approach me going towards CP3, and after 25 minutes I spotted Jules and Dave.
Delina exiting CP3. Dave and Jules going towards. (Jules photo)
Jules was smiling but said he was struggling with cramps down one side from hip to feet, and was moving slowly. He said he’d see me at CP 4, and to look out for him, he’d be wearing something different!? I assumed a change of running gear from CP3. He encouraged me to get moving and we both went our separate ways, he with Dave.
It occurred to me, that including his aid station times; Jules would be around an hour behind me by now and figured he’d need a very strong next leg to see me at CP 4.
The steps arrived and signalled the only real climb to CP 4 at Yarramalong. A couple a female runners were just ahead, one of which was Susan Keith also doing the 100 mile. I passed them on an uneven section, cleared the climb and began the descent through forest trail to the road. It had now begun to get dark, and I stopped to get out the ‘Petzl’ head torch (thanks Sarah Link). Paul Monks and a few others were doing the same just ahead.
The remainder of this leg was about holding myself back. CP 4 is the finish line for the 100km race and can seem physically easy. It is an almost flat, very runnable, bitumen road section. It’s easy to get sucked into running it too quickly (I’d done this last year alongside Sam Weir and wrecked the following leg).
I ran and speed hiked when necessary. My phone beeped, as it picked up reception, so I actually gave Christine, my wife, a call. I realised through family and friend Facebook/SMS notifications that the race updates had been slow in coming through. It was great to speak and reassure her that everything was going to plan and I was ticking along nicely.
I arrived at Yarramalong School CP4. 104km in just over 14 hours, feeling… Ace!
Checkpoint 4 – Yaramalong Public School. 8:05pm.
Leg 22.1km : 2hrs 57mins.
Total 103.7km : 14hrs 05mins.
I’d wanted to make sure that I got here with the bigger picture in mind. I hadn’t over done it, and my nutrition was under control. I was happy, feeling great and having fun.
Feeling good at 104kmChatting to aid station crew
The ‘100km’ finish line at Yarramalong. This is CP4 of 7 for the 100 mile event. (GNW100 photo’s)
But this is where the race really starts! The night section; with some hectic terrain, over the next 70kms.
I checked in and went into the aid station. As ever, the volunteers were superb.
I went to the bathroom and when I returned to the main area, there was Jules. He was standing there in jeans and ‘normal clothes’, not running gear. What the, what the?
He shook his head and laughed. He’d pulled out at CP3 and hadn’t wanted to tell me when we’d met. The cramping had become too much and impossible to consider continuing. He was happy to pull the pin (as was Levi) and fight another day! Sometimes the wisest decision.
I took 35 minutes here, and in retrospect was possibly getting the ‘fear’. I was still concerned about my calorie intake because I’d had trouble in the past very soon after leaving this station. The “Tailwind Nutrition” had been great, but so had the “Hammer Perpetuem” 2 years earlier and the ‘real food’ last year. What if I cleared this station just to ‘bonk’ an hour down the path? I’d detected a few retching feelings in my guts and feared the usual calorific rejection. My worry was the “Tailwind” mix was possibly too concentrated.
(Instead of 2, I added 3 scoops per 500ml. The mix is based on body mass and I’d begun to realise, that at 70kg ‘dripping wet’, I didn’t fall into the larger body category).
I ate as much as I could here; warm soup, watermelon, chia porridge, coke, sachets of kid’s food (6 months plus baby food; sweet potato, carrot and lamb?? Mmm).
Any negative low thoughts were vaporised when it suddenly struck me that with Jules present; I now had a crew man. I decided on a shoe swop. (Without crew I’d had to gamble as to when I may need to change my shoes and place them in the relevant drop bag, not to be seen again until the end of the race). The bonus now was that if Jules could get to the next CP at Somersby, I would be able to reassess if the old Brooks Cascadia’s weren’t feeling up to it, and go back to the Hoka ATR’s.
Exit CP4. Feeling good. (Jules photo)
Shoe exchange complete, I checked out at 8:40pm, and headed out and up Bumble Hill before joining the trail path adjacent to the road.
I soon passed a few runners now with their pacers, (they’re allowed for the final 70km, mostly night section), then discovered a rhythm that was right!! Things just… sailed by.
Literally, the noisy electric pylon hill; didn’t even notice it. The technical ups and downs through the rainforest trails; Well! They weren’t as monumentally hopeless as usual, I was having fun!!! Even the long up hill road into Somersby just happened.
Even effort, this was not a sprint to the finish line.
Upbeat, I ran into CP 5, Somersby Public School at 1:31am. With 132.1km behind me, I’d now been on the move for 19hrs 31mins.
Checkpoint 5 – Somersby Public School. 1:31am.
Leg 28.4km : 4hrs 51mins.
Total 132.1km : 19hrs 31mins.
I immediately checked in and began to look for Jules. After asking around and even apologetically lifting a few blankets from the faces of sleeping crew, I realised he’d been and gone because my ‘extra shoe’ drop bag had materialised.
I later learnt that he’d embarked upon his own epic logistical journey. He was returning(in the middle of the night) to the start line, by hitching lifts and catching trains, to retrieve our hire car and drive it back, all the way south again, to the finish line in Patonga. More than a 200km round trip!
This meant we’d have the car the next day to get back to Newcastle airport and we wouldn’t have to worry about finding other transport. Happy days; wicked!
“Crackers!! But so grateful mate.”
My Hokas were back and I was pleased to change into them. Tightness in the top of my foot was irritating me and I figured the re-substitution would be good. The extra cushioning would be welcome over the next two sections.
I absolutely love them, but I’ve had a few issues with aspects of the ATR design, and it’s not their more than adequate ability to handle all the varied terrain this course threw at me.
They’ve been a revelation to me. Previously, by this point in the thinner Inov8 345’s my feet were tenderised. Now these stretches of broken sandstone fire trail, were runnable. The ATR soles felt cushioned and my soles appreciated it.
But two little things had niggled about their design.
Beware! Semi shoe review coming………
Firstly, I’d had to replace the insoles because the originals ‘crept’ up the back of the shoe-to the point it was almost out of the heel on any run over 2 hours. Tony at the UltraRunningStore, (Cramlington, Northumberland, UK) gave me a replacement Saucony insole that fit perfectly.
Secondly, and more importantly for me, was the tongue. The flimsy material makes it tricky to keep in place.
I’d made sure the laces were tight enough to make it secure. But it was this, I reckon, that was the root cause of what became the only thing I hadn’t seriously considered in my plan. An injury!
The pain in the top of my right foot had started to prevent me from flexing it fully. Of additional concern, was that this irritation had now spread to my shin.
The temperature was much cooler now and I hoped I just needed to stretch it out on this next, very runnable section.
‘King of the slow aid station stops’ again, but I ate soup, chia, melon, baby food, salt tablets and whatever was palatable, to ensure I stayed on top of my nutrition. I’d been carrying an extra hydration belt (from Aldi?!) my mam had given me in July, when I was back in England. I’d been filling it with water and this was helping me dilute the ‘Tailwind’ mix. I realised, my experience from previous years was paying off. I was adjusting and adapting when things weren’t perfect and was more able to recognise the signs when they needed attention.
I walked towards the road after checking out and went to switch my head torch on. I’d saved my super bright ‘AyUp’ double light for these final sections. It would light the way through the darkest final legs of the race.
I pressed the switch, nothing. I repeatedly pressed it, nothing!! Ah come on… Maybe the battery hadn’t charged… but I’d checked it?
The ‘Petzl’ headtorch I’d been using had been great, but I’d hoped for a boost psychologically, as well as in luminosity.
Finally the ‘AyUp’ came to life and lit the whole road ahead of me. Normally the switch would allow the beam three modes of brightness, but now it was on, it was stuck in full beam mode. I hoped the battery would last.
I gradually moved from walking through shuffling, into a decent jog. It’s a mostly gradual downhill route to CP6 at Mooney Mooney, 17.8km away.
I’d figured on about two and a half hours and wasn’t about to take advantage of the negative vert. Just stick to the plan: even effort, consistency!
Before joining the trail, on the road section, I met Susan Keith, now with pacer. She was going through a bit of a low. She asked how I was able to run. She was struggling with quad’ problems I think. Uphills had become a real challenge and she was questioning the point of continuing, without actually being able to run.
I told her the next section at least had very few uphills and then she’d be within 25kms of the finish. She didn’t seem too impressed.
Twenty minutes later it was a different story, and I found myself running behind both of them. We sat on a steady but decent pace, and I was inspired by the strength she’d managed to discover. I could barely keep up.
Suddenly the bridge and layby which serves as CP6 at Mooney Mooney, came into view.
In no time, it felt like we were there. 149.9km done!
Checkpoint 6 – Mooney Mooney Creek Bridge. 4:37am.
Leg 17.8km : 2hrs 35mins.
Total 149.9km : 22hrs 37mins.
Checking in here at 4:37am, still dark, meant that at least for some part, I wouldn’t be exposed to the heat of the day, on the final exposed granite topped hills.
Brilliant aid station volunteers were at hand. Laughing, joking and helping in any way possible. We chatted and exchanged stories.
I need a t-shirt that says, “Do not speak to this man! Kick him out of your CP in 10 minutes.”
I used the bathroom, refuelled, ate the usual, did the mandatory weigh-in (67.8kg again) and equipment check, and then enquired how many runners had passed through. The volunteer checked the sheets and said “only twelve”.
I was 13th. Cool.
Susan Keith had already left CP6 15 minutes earlier, but I was, well… slow getting out! Or at least making sure everything was right! Maybe I needed to trust myself more, but …
The 25.4km to Patonga, is a hell of a leg. It’s got some of the toughest ups and downs, but some fairly runnable parts too. The granite ‘steps’ both up and down are so irregular that any rhythm is impossible. The uneven footing and exposure is energy sapping. When the later runnable fire trail parts arrive and you’re ‘done’, the slightest gradient can feel like Everest.
I’d spoken to Andy about how to approach the race only a few days before. One of the final things he said was,
“Don’t forget, the second half to Patonga, has some very runnable sections”, and
“At that point what are you saving yourself for? It’s then mostly your head; you have to convince yourself to run”
Fully fuelled, I checked out at 5am. The ‘AyUp’ headtorch played up a bit, but eventually I got it to illuminate the way.
I was moving along reasonably well. I had soreness in my hips and my right foot/shin; but neither was giving me too much to worry about.
This final leg delivers a fair bit of stunning rain forest and river action to ease you in. Then you’re served a relentless array of serious vertical ascent and descent. Both virtually unrunnable!
Strangely when I hit the ascents, I found I was cruising. The poles were helping; easing the legs and giving my hands and brain something extra to keep me focussed. It came to a point when I was actually hoping for uphills, because the downs were so laboured. Sadly even the flats I’d committed to run; were an increasing effort.
Sunrise Sunday morning. (Jules photo)
The sun was rising and as I cleared a long forest incline, the route became sandstone fire trail. Ten metres in front of me was Susan Keith. She was still managing the quad soreness, but looking strong. I wished her well and said I’d no doubt see her before the end.
As I pushed on a thought crossed my mind; 12th.
I figured everyone was probably feeling buggered by this stage, and so, I was no worse than any of them. Could I push; race even?
I was beginning to feel pretty comfortable, even confident with my preparation. I could trust the ‘Suunto Ambit 3’ watch to guide me effortlessly. My energy levels were ‘good’. It was coming together, I could see this thing through without the past ‘melt downs’ or detours.
I just had to keep moving. Run when I could, power hike when I couldn’t. Clamber and stumble if those two failed.
Within a short time, maybe twenty or thirty minutes, I could see two people with back packs. Maybe day hikers? Or runners?
Simon Gulliver and his pacer, I’d seen at various parts of the route. We briefly chatted and ran together. He remarked that he wasn’t ‘racing’ me and I agreed. We’re just getting there as quickly as we can.
It dawned on me that! Well…… I must admit, I got competitive!
And Andy’s earlier words did echo;
“At that point what are you saving yourself for? It’s then mostly your head; you have to convince yourself to run”.
And so I did. 11th…..
I extended a gap between them and I tried not to look behind, to avoid looking like I was desperate or trying too hard. I ran a few decent straight sections and as soon as I approached a bend I glanced over my shoulder. I was slowly getting away from them. A few times it seemed like they’d remade ground, but this helped me keep pushing.
The clock was obviously ticking too and I’d finally realised the futility of thinking (x) amount of kms = (x) amount of time!!!! The normal rules of relativity ceased to apply at this stage. 5 or 10km could take 1 or 2hrs?? The sneaky few hills towards the finale are impossible to gauge. My watch was showing 26hrs 13mins. For the first time I considered my finishing time. I hadn’t dared before now, anything could have gone wrong; even a twisted ankle or a fall.
It was clear I was going to finish around the 27 hour mark, but those final km’s are tricky, was a sub 27hrs possible? Newly motivated, I pushed on.
My sore hips could only be ignored at this stage, every step was tender. My right ankle and shin were only functioning at a right angle; almost all the flexibility had gone. But this was where I’d told myself,
“If I could run I would”.
To my surprise, I could. Despite the discomfort, I actually felt great, strong to be honest.
As the final decent through a forest section leads onto Patonga beach, 27 hours clicked by. I’d be a little outside, but you know, so what!!…….. All I’d wanted this year was to give a good account of myself. To enjoy an organised, prepared, disaster free race, and that’s what I was soaking up now. I’d smashed over 4 hours from 2014’s time and over 6 hours from 2013.
Below spectators catch glimpses of runners through the trees. Shouts and cheers notify those farther up, at the finish line, of incoming runners. I called back with a, “Yeeeeew!”, even though I was still a long way from the bottom. By halfway down I heard more shouts and the cow bell begin to ring.
As I stepped out from the trees and onto the beach, my initial feelings were of relief and joy. I’d done it again. Faster, stronger – easier!! The final victory lap along the beach is emotional. I’ve always experienced a struggle just to get here: tears have flown. But I was laughing this time. I greeted a spectator, “almost there now”, they called in encouragement.
I looked up and this year the beach was partly obscured by scaffolding at about halfway.
Patonga Beach (Google maps)
Of greater surprise…… were the 2 runners about 100m ahead!!!!! Rob Wildig and his pacer were approaching this scaffolded section, and would soon turn left to rejoin the beach.
The bell had been for them. Maybe they hadn’t notice me. If I put my head down and picked it up a little, maybe I could get closer.
Arrrgghhh! Could I? Should I?
10th. Top 10!!!
They took the left turn to begin their final 500m beach run in. They were out of view now and I began to run much harder. Like a cartoon character tiptoeing towards a wall, to peek around it. As I hastily made it across the hard surface to the fencing, I quickly rounded the corner and made it to the soft sand beach entry, then slowed, partly because it’s energy sapping, but also not to ‘raise alarm’ that I was closing.
(Now in fairness, this event is a journey and to enjoy the final steps and be able to soak up the emotion is the way these thing go. But….. and this is the source of some guilt here! Sorry Rob…)
After ‘sneaking’ to the water’s edge, I hit more firm footing; I began to wind it up. I gradually accelerated to the point where I was actually sprinting.
Hitting the beach in the distance. Closing in and ‘hunting’.
Spotted!! Incoming!! Breaking up the family. (Jules photo)
A female voice shouted,
“Rob there’s a runner” or “he’s coming””
Glancing over his shoulder he responded and joined the race in. The kids and the family would have to wait. (So sorry??!!).
Shoulder to shoulder, I literally ‘tore’ towards the finish line. I was smashed, but buzzing.
People cheered and whistled, but mostly laughed. I kissed the GNW pole, the ritual that ends the 100 mile event. It was a ridiculous way to finish such an event. Levi Martin and Jules were there laughing like mad,
“Well it is a race!? “, Levi joked.
This is a sprint to the finish line!!
‘Dip’for the line
Kissing the finishing post I’m done!! (GNW100 photos)
I was now not just ‘worn down’, but actually knackered; out of breath! Unusual at the end of an ultra. I shook hands with Rob, after collapsing on the step nearby. Race director, Dave Byrnes leant down to shake hands and present me with my “Silver” medal (sub 30hrs). I muttered something about 3rd time lucky and not getting lost this time,
“That’ll help”, he returned, smiling.
Finish – Yarramalong Wharf. 9:12pm.
Leg 25.4km : 4hrs 11mins.
Total 175.3km : 27hrs 12mins.
Medal and the hand shake (GNW100 photo) Levi Martin (Jules photo)
All smiles and the traditional post kiss (GNW100 photo)
3 is the magic number!! 3rd time lucky. (GNW100)
My finishing time; 27hours and 12minutes!!!
Over the moon, stoked, chuffed, happy; I actually felt grateful and content. I’d knocked off over 4 hours from last year and over 6 hours from 2013. There are so many things that went right this year; training, navigation, support and nutrition to name the obvious. I remained injury free and had thoroughly enjoyed the experience of training as well as racing.
Next year I promised myself, NO!! I’d have a 2016 GNW break, look for a different event. But, as I look back at this year’s race, I can’t help finding areas that I can still easily improve. Most clearly, my aid station times. 20-30minutes in each of the check points is not good enough, maybe 5 or even 10. I reckon with this and confidence in my preparation; 25 hours is well within reach. And of course if you’re going for 25 hours you might as well dream of a sub 24 hour!!! Although I think only about 14 people have ever gone under 24.
For me, running this far is a work in progress that I’m happy to be obsessed with!!
*Actually 11th !!! hahaha.. What the ..? Well after all that, somewhere along the route the positions were mixed up. So, the joke’s on me! At such a late stage in the game it was unexpected and made for a different sort of finish I’ll never forget.
**Ankle/shin swelled up like a balloon. Couldn’t walk for a week..
Thanks and love:
*Terrigal Trotters, Dave Byrnes and the superb team who put on this amazing event.
**All my family and friends who inspire me to run and tolerate me banging on about trail running.
Part 3 GNW 100 2013 Great North Walks 100 mile “Australia’s toughest trail race” (November 9th & 10th 2013)
Section 6: Somersby Public School to Mooney Mooney – 18km/11mi
(Adam – Yeeew caffeine)
(Thank you very much, again)
I was somewhat dubious as to the promise of the ‘run-ability’ of this next section to begin with, but true to their word, it was. Once my legs unstiffened and warmed up, I remember it feeling relatively flat, even ground, not raining and I was mentally awake. We began to run. Adam noted I was tending to run quicker when I was in front of him and kept encouraging me to move forward. Up until then I reckon I thought it was easier for me to hide behind him. He was right. Being conscious of him behind me, I now focused on my form and pace and we began to shift along quite nicely.
The relief of moving properly was uplifting. We chatted and joked about hunting down other runners. We’d barely known each other prior to this race, but having seen me through my darkest moments of my first ever real ultra-distance run, I owed this guy big time. Adam just kept laughing, chatting, and reminding me to eat, drink and move.
Sure enough we began to pass runners. Not heaps but a few. (There weren’t too many left standing we’d learn later.)
18km passed quickly, believe it or not, and with only a couple of k’s left to go Adam pointed out the sound of a highway and said we’re getting closer. A couple more runners were passed and we were approaching CP6. As we left the final stretch of trail and up over a bridge he said “well this is me, Luke will pace you from here”.
I’d completely ignored or forgotten the earlier comment by Luke that he’d be pacing the final 25km with me. Adam had to go to a work function that afternoon. (After an all-night 8 hour, 50km run???). This meant he would stop running here and drive the van to the finish line before going home. Luke would run the final section from CP6 to CP7. Now, this was a concern for me on two counts. Firstly, sad because it had only just dawned on me I hadn’t thanked Adam as much as he truly deserved, and secondly, because Luke had already demonstrated a slightly funny, yet sadistic streak!!!
We ran into Mooney Mooney CP6 strongly and whooping. The results would later show we’d run 2:20 hours for the 18km, the 3rd fastest time for that section. Unbelievable!!! Only to be trumped by 2 others. Wow, still chuffed with that statistic.
Even more brilliant was the fact Jules and Levi had been one of those who’d gone faster and recorded the quickest time (1hr 54mins). They also went on to run the fastest final section too!! Lads, amazing!!
We checked in, regrouped at the van and did the swop. I feel I’ll never be able to thank Adam Kranz enough. Mate you are a legend!!
We kept this stop short as the delays and rest weren’t doing me any good.
‘Beware the chair’.
Warm soup and coke from the CP station felt good! And we were moving again.
(Completed: Checkpoint 6: In 10.29am – Out 10.59am : Leg time 2hr 20mins Race time overall – 28h 29mins: Total distance 150 km/ 93mi: Position 23rd )
Section 7: Mooney Mooney to Patonga (finish) – 25km/ 15.5mi
The thought of quitting was well a truly exorcised and it was now a matter of Luke keeping me moving and getting to that finish line. With only 25.5km to go, this seemed academic. But man, it was not easy. The terrain switched again, and the trails began to get as tough as they’d been so far. Hills, boulders and freezing rain. My feet were pounded and tender and more weirdly the cheeks of my arse were chaffing so badly I could barely concentrate?!
Even when we hit parts that were soft and runnable, the torrential rain was running in rivers, making it impossible to move freely. Soaked through yes, but wet feet, primed to blister was a worry. I skirted around the flowing water in the centre of the trail and dodged over-hanging bushes, the going got slow again. Climbing up and down boulder paths, running, but at a pedestrian pace, I was beginning to shiver.
As an epic Australian ultra goes, the effort and challenges of this race will always be reported, but it would be a serious disservice not to state the sheer beauty and diversity of this part of the world. In recapping this event it’s difficult to remember or appreciate everything. The ancient beauty of this landscape is magnificent. The geology, the rainforest, the elevation and decent, the little villages, the single trail routes that the whole event runs along, are just awesome. Being a part of such an event made me feel genuinely alive. The opportunity to be running in the company of others that not only ran, but crewed and volunteered over this weekend was exhilarating.
We picked off a couple of other runners, the finish line getting closer. I’d stopped asking Luke how far we had to go. The distances had become irrelevant and I’m sure he was lying by now in any case. Only how long mattered now. 5,10, 15 km it was impossible to judge.
(Feet feeling tender)
My legs were feeling smashed by now. Stepping up and down the relentless boulder ‘steps’ was a tenderising experience. My feet were numb in places and felt sore, pounded by 33 hours of movement. I needed it to end soon. The final decent onto the beach was filled with mixed emotions, agony and ecstasy!!
I’d buried the emotion throughout these final kms but it was starting to emerge once more. I excitedly began commentating to myself and Luke. “Come on Byrnesey you’re there now”. I could feel myself begin to well up.
(Almost on the beach)
We stepped out from the forest decent and onto the final 500 metre ‘beach’ finishing straight. We could see the finish line and Luke was laughing and proclaiming the victory we were about to savour. It’s hard to describe how I was feeling because I really hadn’t known if I was going to see this thing through. Never having completed even a 100km race or ran through the night before had been 2 major concerns that were genuine parts of this unknown amazing adventure.
(200 metres to go)
The weather was cloudy and cool now, and a small crowd was gathered around the finish line/ pole. Luke insisted on letting me soak up the moment by myself and peeled off to the side of the path. I was reluctant, but he grabbed the camera and began cheering me in. With a couple of hundred metres to go, the crowd began to cheer and again I did my best to hold it together. I saluted the bystanders and clapped their support to show my appreciation. Jules and Levi were there whooping me in and Luke shouted “kiss that pole buddy”. I knelt before the crowd and kissed the finishing post, as is the tradition, head down trying not to lose it and let the emotion overcome me.
I’ll let the videos and pictures tell the story.
(Me finishing the 100 miler!! Jules video)
(Kiss that pole buddy!! Luke video)
(So many people helped me!)
33:46mins after leaving Teralba my “journey” had ended.
“I wanted the GNW100s to be a real challenge involving a significant degree of self-sufficiency and providing great personal satisfaction. I enjoy enticing new people into the sport I love and was looking for something that would attract those keen to explore their mental and physical boundaries. In my own running and adventures, I’ve come to love and appreciate the multi-dimensional journey that takes you from A to B and, at the same time, through the full gamut of human emotions and physical experiences, and I wanted a race that gave competitors that journey. Great and varied scenery along with the camaraderie ultras provide would be the icing on the cake.” And “For reasons explained above, I want the race to take people to their limits physically and mentally. We all know that, when we are operating at our limits, weak points are exposed and the risk of failure is ever-present. Consequently, I feel that a significant proportion of the field incurring DNFs shows that the race is meeting my goals. It also makes completion that much sweeter for those who do finish.”
Well Dave you clearly delivered this year. The 2013 GNW 100’s witnessed a 70% DNF, a journey through the most epic landscapes that had taken me mentally to places I’d never tested before. And yes, finishing in such a tough year did make the “completion that much sweeter”.
All my time goals had long become irrelevant as the game had changed numerous times over the weekend.
Standing on that beach in front of Dave receiving my finisher medal was unreal. I can’t really explain it to be honest. Relief mostly I think!!
The finishing post Levi Martin Hugging Jules
Dave Byrnes Hold it together?! Fried head
Completed: Checkpoint 7
Finish: In 3.46pm : Leg time 4hr 47mins Race time overall – 33h 46mins
Total distance 175.3 km/ 108.9mi: Position 21st
Jules had ran a blinder!! He finished in 29hr 48mins and 10th position. He and Levi ripped the course up. The last 3 sections they recorded 2 first positions and 1 third!!! Boooom!
As a final note it’s interesting that the 2014 event has changed its date to the cooler month of September. I’ll be curious to see how this changes the experience, because I now know for sure, I can’t wait to do this spectacularly amazing event again!!
Thank you sooooo much to everyone involved that weekend.
Crew: Luke Martin, Adam Kranz, Levi Martin
Race director: Dave Byrnes
Graham Doke and Kev Andrews for CP 5 revive and survive effort.
All the Terrigal Trotters and all volunteers for making the event happen with the meticulous levels of organisation, fun and love.
All the love and support from friends and family who followed the event over the weekend via the website and Facebook.
Jules Devlin for simply being the best training buddy over the past couple of years (more to come).
Christine (my wife). Thank you for all your unbelievable support and sorry for putting you through the stress of not only that weekend, but also the lead up to it, the training etc, etc. I had it covered???!!! I love you!
(How do people write these things so quickly? It’s taken me months to get around to doing this?!)
By the way I got the job!!!
Thanks for reading, if you like you can leave a comment and any input is gladly received.
“Adventures beyond the living room” Simon Peter Byrne
Section 4: The Basin Campsite to Yarramalong Public School –
Our path was crossed by a Red Bellied Black snake in the first km, (back toward the steps of the re-entry point to the GNW route) Jules barely jumped at all. A first…
At this point I decided to finish it. Not just the 100km but the 100mile. This was gonna be the making of the run. Being able to overcome this would be my challenge.
(Turns out Dave Waugh pulled the pin at CP3. We’d missed him by getting there so late and had only been a half km in front of him when we took the wrong turn, damn….. It was a real pity for us as well as him. By now news was filtering through that the DNF rate was increasing rapidly. Veterans and first timers alike were dropping like flies)
As we began to climb, Jules began to discuss options for our situation. 4 or 5 of them?? I could tell by his tone they weren’t gonna be easy listening. He was looking strong, but most of them gave us ways we could get to the ‘100km’ finish line (CP4) and stop!! Start the drive home that night and be on the beach in the morning…
“noooo we’re doing this Jules, I‘ve put that behind us!! We can do this!”
Unlike me, this was one of his few negative moments.
The rest of this section I don’t recall, it was getting close to 11pm and we’d been on the move for close to 17 hours.
..except when we hit the bitumen road that went on and on and on….. 13km apparently.. we’d thought 5 or 6km and we were ready to get there…. Jules had a second dark patch here, the road was boring, and mentally tired we were finding it hard along here…. we kept moving.
Checked in and weighed again, we made our way over to the Ute and van, where now, not only Luke but his brother Levi and their mate Adam Kranz awaited. The back of the transit opened and the 2 of them emerged looking knackered. It was after midnight by now and they’d been sleeping on mattresses in the back. Seriously, these guys whom I barely know were prepared to turn up on a Saturday night, at this time and pace the final 75km for us. I couldn’t get over the selflessness of it.
We were later than they’d expected due to our detour, and the best thing to have done would have been to get out of there quick. But again I sat down and began to slump –physically and mentally this time. The success of reaching this point began to appeal as a satisfactory goal, and my previous assuredness about finishing the miler became irrelevant. I shook my head but every negative thought possible was rushing through my brain. 100km would do!! I had a lot going on at work. With an important interview coming up later in the week I began to fear the overall consequences of being mentally fried for the rest of the week and therefore sabotaging my own interview. I began rambling this dialogue to the other 4 who were looking seriously confused,
“what the f*** is he going on about” I heard Luke say, “just get your stuff together and get going”.
Looking over his shoulder I could see the mattresses in the back of the van and the option was clear.
“You’re not gonna like what I’m gonna say Jules but I think I’m done. I don’t need to finish this, I’m happy to have got here, this’ll do me”
(CP4 1st doubts)
Baring in mind Levi and Adam had turned up specifically for this point, it would have been pretty rude to have quit then. But man, I so could have. They casually refused to accept my assessment and just said well you’re not stopping now, let’s get moving. Jules was feeling refreshed, positive and keen to get going too. I objected a few times but there was no way they were having it.
So off we went. Back down the road we’d approached on, before hitting trail again and into the darkness and what would be a very long night.
(Completed: Checkpoint 4: In 12:28am – Out 1:09am : Leg time 3hr 41mins
Race time overall – 18h 28mins: Total distance 104km/ 65mi: Position47th )
Section 5: Yarramalong Public School to Somersby Public School – 29km/18mi
We learned that a massive number of the field had dropped out, including race leader and course record holder Brendan Davies. The heat had been a major factor; at this point it seemed that they’d be lucky to see 50% of the field finish in both races this year.
We climbed over a road barrier and re-joined the GNW track. We fell into single file and it wasn’t long before I realised I was moving slower or at least having to work to keep up with the boys. A few times they all waited at particular points. Gradually though, Jules and Levi were looking strong and Adam was having to slow down so that I didn’t lose touch. He worked well at trying to strike up conversation and to take my mind off whatever it was that was going on in my head.
I was tired.
It was after 1am now and we’d been on the go for over 18 hours. With the prospect of 74km of pretty steep and technical trail running, plus the fact I was finding it harder to refuel, was beginning to wear me down. Physically my legs and body were not really the worry. We’d avoided any mishaps – we’d seen evidence of falls on the grazed bodies of a couple of folk. But mentally I was buggered. I’d never run this distance before, and I hadn’t got around to doing any training session through the night in preparation.
I apologised later for my quietness, but I was struggling to focus and (unlike me) I just couldn’t find the chat.
The occasional light from Jules and Levi was becoming less frequent and after some time of decent I heard Jules give a loud ‘yeeeew’, it sounded a good way from us; we returned the call to let them know we were ok. They were running great. I was pleased they were now going to run their own race. This was why we’d been over the moon with having 2 pacers.
Adam Kranz is a local from the Newcastle area and has plenty experience on this course. I’d met him only once before, in Byron, when he’d visited for Luke’s wedding a few months earlier. We’d all gone for a trail run through the dunes and headland around the Bay one Sunday morning. Both he and Levi offered all sorts of tips on their GNW experiences and listened patiently to my numerous questions. The thought of them actually pacing for us had never crossed my mind. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mentioned on the run, but a few days later Jules told me they’d offered to help us.
Patience, man! Adam should have got a medal. We were moving, but slowly. I was struggling to get fuel in. My stomach was cramping at the thought of any food at all and my pace was slow. We encountered a few other runners and ran past them. They were sitting resting. It couldn’t have been much later when we met them again. This time though, I was hands on knees, retching and puking onto the side of the single trail. They stopped to ask if I needed anything and then gave me a ginger chewy sweet, which would help with nausea. I exchanged a handful of salt and salt/caffeine capsules as one of them was suffering with cramps.
All the time Adam remained positive, “are you ok, let’s go!”
He began mixing a sports gel (‘Winners – Cadel Evans’, if I remember rightly) into a bottle of water. If we were going to get to the next checkpoint I needed to get some fuel into me, “Sip, this.”
As well as rehydrating, this would slowly drip feed me at least some energy. He checked his watch and then continued to say “drink” every 5 minutes. It worked, my stomach didn’t reject it and it wasn’t too long before I’d finished the bottle. Brilliant. He mixed another bottle and this was how we continued.
The rain hit us at maybe 4am. Like an afternoon monsoon, it chucked it down. My waterproof jacket was not as resistant as it claimed. It didn’t matter when we were running, but forced to walk down the steeper decent and accents, I began to get very cold. Some of this section was difficult technical trail and it was pitch black outside the narrowing beam of my dimming head lamp, which I’d worn since leaving CP3 with Jules. (I had spare batteries, but could not be arsed to take my pack off and find them).
The rain poured and I was shivering. I remember Adam saying it was mostly downhill, but figured, when after half an hour again we were climbing an endless assent, that he was managing my efforts on a step by step process. Deal with the hills when we get to them. And we did. Slowly, but forwards.
5 and half hours later we emerged from the trail onto a proper road and turned right. Checkpoint 5 at the Somersby Public School was only 1 – 1.5 km away. By this point I was beyond persuasion, this was the end of the race for me. I was done. I’d made up my mind that was it! I’d be pulling the pin here.
At this pace it would take forever. Unable to refuel as well as I would need, for the remaining 42km – yes, marathon still to go!! It would be torture for both me and Adam.
We ran for 10 mins before I laughed and said “Adam, where’s this f***ing school?”
“mm not sure, should be.. mm maybe it was left back there?”
By now it didn’t matter. I was finishing here anyhow, it would stop. Adam checked a map, but knew we needed to turn. The road was flat here and easy to run on. I did pick the pace up here a fair bit. Adam reckoned I was 4min/km-ing the last 2km. I definitely wanted to finish at least being out of breath, rather than just worn out. It felt like the end was in sight, CP5 at 132km, good job, goodnight!!
Luke spotted us from way off, and cheered us in. I was sprinting to my finish line, the ‘cut’, hand to the neck gesture, signalling my intention.
“no way buddy, you look great mate, you’re gonna finish this thing”
“No Luke, honest mate, I’m done. I’ve already decided, and told Adam. This is me like! Finished.”
“You looked great coming in there”
“Yeah coz I know that I don’t have to run out of this checkpoint”
I checked in to checkpoint 5 at 7.15am.
“theres no way you can stop here. You’re nearly there now”
I walked away behind a building, I was shattered. Head in hands, I began to get the feeling of relief that it was over. I’d had the most amazing experience and would never forget this event. Half laughing, half crying I walked back over to Adam and Luke and sat down.
“You’re not fucking stopping!”
“Seriously Luke, no”
“Yeah mate, you’re more than half way now” chipped in Adam
“75% done” corrected Luke
“Have you heard what you’re saying man. I’ve still got another marathon to go and on tough trail”
Luke replied “you’re head fucking yourself Simon, you can’t think like that… this next section’s easy, I promise. It’s totally ‘run-able’, you’ll love it.. 18k’s mate, how many times have you run 18k’s? ”
(The Magic Crew)
Others had become involve at this point. One man Kevin Andrews, President of Terrigal Trotters, and today Elvis styled gold suit and shades wearing volunteer, as well as runner and Ironman himself. He’d been at every CP, including registering us himself at the very start of the race.
Kev began muttering to Luke and Adam and they both burst into laughter (something to do with me being a vagina (pussy)). Between the three of them offering a finely tuned balance of rationales, support, hilarious gibes and calls to greatness, they had me laughing.
Graham Doke, a crew member for runner Roger Hanney, offered some massage / muscle release /torture/ relief?! Luke was quick with the video and recorded the ridiculous scene. Standing facing Graham, my arms over his shoulders he applied pressure to my hips and back. I looked up smiling, before screeching in pain, as Luke laughed. This was what he loved. Seeing me at this point is exactly what we’d signed up for. Captured for all to see!!
(The Golden Moments)
But gentlemen, I thank you!
It must be said; the organisation, enthusiasm, humour and kindness of the GNW volunteers and crews are completely amazing. The nature of the course, as well as the temperature challenges, can be brutal. These people made it possible for me to get off my arse.
“beware the chair”
Throughout the night they must have inspired many runners to dig deeper within themselves.
(I don’t believe I’m doing this)
Warm soup, caffeine, drinks and incredibly, 50 minutes later, we were out of there! I really could not believe I was checking out of CP5 feeling this good, positive even; this thing was going to get done.
(Completed: Checkpoint 5: In 7.15am – Out 8.09am : Leg time 6hr 5mins
Race time overall – 25h 14mins: Total distance 132 km/ 82mi: Position 25th )
Great North Walks 100 mile “Australia’s toughest trail race” (November 9th & 10th 2013)
Section 1: Teralba to Watagan Camping Area – 28km/17.8mi(Saturday 5:58am – Teralba, NSW, Australia)
“You’ll think you’re going too slowly at the beginning, go slower”
Our crewman Luke Martin’s words of caution rang loud and clear in my head as we prepared to leave Teralba on the first leg of our GNW 100 mile journey.
The Great North Walks 100s, ‘Australia’s Toughest Trail Runs’ are two races that run a section of the 260km full route. Its popularity has increased in recent years and it was a relief when we both heard back to say we’d been successful in getting a starting number. The 104km and the 109mile races (yes, just for “fun”, they are both more than a bit over) had just under the 185 runner’s (a few DNS) this year.
Jules Devlin is a good mate from Byron Bay, who over the past couple of years I have trained with for various trail runs and marathons. We’re pretty close in most distances. He’d run The North Face 100km in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney last year, and so had more ‘ultra’ experience than me. He’d mentioned the GNW at the beginning of the year and the possibility of doing the 100 miler, just to “put the idea into my head”.
With over 6000m of ascent and decent, through some of the most beautiful, leg smashing Australian single trail, I was beginning to get seriously nervous and excited.
An old school mate from UK, Steve Richards, who knows me as well as anyone, posted this cool tune by Hopeton Lewis called “Take it easy” on my facebook page.
“take your time, take your time, take your time, no need to hurry!!”
We’d all listened to it in the car on the way to the start line.
It was perfect!!
Registered, weighed in, a quick coffee (with a touch of whiskey), count down and we were off… Slowly….
But for 30 seconds Jules sprinted into the lead, laughing,
“It’s got to be done; it’s got to be done”
He briefly led that race, he nearly had it!!?
We had found ourselves in the front 10 runners but knowing some of these would be 100km runners, our main concern was, ‘are we moving too fast’. Jules had worn his Garmin specifically for this reason. We’d figured that although the battery would not last the duration of the race, it would at least help us reign in any desire to start too quick, particularly this soon.
The weekend forecast had promised a hot Saturday with a rainy and cooler Sunday.
The first leg to CP1 was simply awesome. It managed to combine every type of Australian trail running that I’ve encountered. It was the single trail that stood out for me. River gullies, rainforest, cave over hangs, hills, hills. We both commented on the fun we were having and feeling great! Pulling into CP1 whooping, Luke smiled and ushered us over to the Ute where all of our stuff was waiting.
Luke Martin is a mate of Jules’. He trains with him when he is doing triathlons. Luke’s from Newcastle and as a local knows the trails, having ran on them and paced for his brother Levi in the past. He had volunteered months ago to crew for Jules and myself on this our first 100 mile event. I couldn’t believe our luck.
He took our backpacks refilled them with drinks, water, gels, salt and caffeine tablets. We didn’t eat much here.
“You’re going great boys, you’re pretty quick though?”
With only 28 km’s gone it had been cool and we were not ready for food. We signed out of CP1 with more “yeeews”! Enjoying every second!!
(Completed: Checkpoint 1: In 9:38am – Out 9:49am Total running time – 3h 38mins : Total distance 28km/17.8mi: Position 8th )
Section 2: Watagan Camping Area to Congewai Public School – 24.5km
To CP2 the trail continued along fire and single trail, with a few fair ascents and descents thrown in, cloud cover had been good so it was nice running in cooler temperatures than had been expected. Things were perfect. We’d noticed the clouds were beginning to break up a little along the ridge and soon realised it was getting warmer.
The track went down for some time before hitting a road. Stepping out from the rainforest it was apparent that it had got very hot. With barely any shade, the road winds through a valley exposed fully to the sun. We ran for a km or so and began to walk up a slight incline. Within a couple more km’s the heat was intense. (It was later reported that CP2 had been 38⁰C. I’m not sure how hot, but I think it was better not to have realised any of this at the time.)
Still, we met a guy, Dave Waugh, who I’d ran with and finished 2nd to 3 weeks previously at the Washpool 50km. I’d spoken to him briefly pre-race and on asking for advice he said, “When you feel like you can’t go any further, tell yourself, you will start to feel better.”
He is a modest quiet spoken guy and great trail runner (until that morning I hadn’t realised he had won this event in 2005 (its first year) and 2007). So it was all the more sad to see him struggling along the road. He looked hot. He said his stomach was giving him grief and he wasn’t feeling great. We offered him anything we had, but he was sorted. We chatted and joked for a while before Dave said, “it’s not far to CP2, you go, I’ll see you there.” Jules invited him to join us at our Ute and share anything he needed. Dave was doing it with drop bags at each CP, and so, was without support.
As this was our first attempt, I was glad we had the goal of reaching Luke and his beaming face. Jules had arrived a couple minutes before me and was just leaving the medical tent. This was our first ‘race’ weigh in. He’d lost a few kg and as a safety measure they monitor you. I’d dropped about 2kg too. We sat in the shade by the van. Luke took the backpacks, refuelled and grabbed our first change of shirts and shorts.
(Completed: Checkpoint 2: In 12:33pm – Out 1:42pm : Leg time 2hr 44mins Race time overall – 7h 35mins: Total distance 52km/32.6mi : Position 10th )
Section 3: Congewai Public School to The Basin Campsite– 24.5km
This next section to CP 3 we’d been waiting for, Luke had warned us. The climbs were amongst the toughest on the course and at this time of the day, the sun hits the side you climb.
Within the first 5 km we passed 3 people ending it, returning with aliments or injuries. Veterans, aware of what was to come and realising the efforts it would require, made turning back to their crew more appealing. The naivety of being first timers was possibly an advantage at this point.
The climbs were good? Hard, but on picking up various make-shift walking poles, I realised how much easier it was on the legs.
The communication tower at the top felt good to get to.
Run, fuel, walk, fuel, climb, fuel…..
On a fairly long downhill section we saw Dave. We’d missed him at CP2, he’d forgotten to refill his pack bladder, and had made quite a quick pit stop, 10 minutes compared to our hour. Lying on his back on the side of the fire trail, he’d been sick and said he could only move 50 metres before puking. We stood chatting for 10 minutes and eventually got him to take some Coke Cola from us. He got up and began to run with us. Within a km we met another runner sitting with a dude who’d stopped to help him. Dave told us to go on and sat down with them. They can’t have sat there long, because within 30 minutes they’d caught us up. Feeling better, he was laughing about hunting us down!!
He’d refilled at a water tower, and was moving.
We ran alongside a number of others in their own world. Jules and I talked shite to each other. This was wicked; we were fully loving the experience, opportunity and adventure of it all.
After what seemed like a long time we reach the top of a fairly long climb and the unmanned water station. As we refilled our bladders we were joined by Dave and 2 others runners, both of whom we’d met at races in Washpool or Nerang. It all seemed quite cosy that we were about 75 km into the race and we knew everyone around us. Dave said it was ‘mostly decent from here to CP3’. We ran along a ridge for a while. The ground felt cushioned for the first time in ages.
We began the decent through rainforest and pushed ahead a little. We were now only 3 km from CP3 and ticking along brilliantly. The GNW trail then swung left up some serious steps and began to climb. It zigzagged for a while and then hit boulders and rock ‘steps’. We climbed for a few km’s and then reached a fire trail. After some slight confusion over an unmarked intersection we found ourselves on a main firetrail road. 50 metres along was a Ute with some support crew (who we’d seen a couple of times at various intersections). They cheered as we approached,
“you’re flying boys, only about 14km to CP 4” ,
?????? the 100 km – Checkpoint 4?, where we’d meet our 2 pacers, WTF?????????
“Nahhh mate! We’re only a couple of k’s from CP3”
“Ahh nahh mate, I know what you’ve done, you’ve missed the Lyrebird trail that takes you to CP3, and came all the way up here.”
CP3 at 82 km, it turns out, is about 1 or 2 km from the point where we’d began to climb. Nooooo!!! This can’t have happened; we’d stuck to the GNW path. And that was the error. The map clearly showed a short out and back to The Basin picnic area that serves as CP3. We hadn’t noticed or registered it.
To say we were gutted is an understatement. We turned on our heels and began to retrace our route. Both shouting our various frustrations at what had happened.
It’s hard to pin down what was so annoying.
• The time we’d clearly wasted: about 2 hours.
• The extra unnecessary energy we’d used.
• Losing the feeling we’d had on getting to within a km of reaching the dreaded CP3 in such good spirits. To have seen Luke’s face…. We had been still buzzing at that point. And now, to be turning up hours later, dark and still having to retrace the section we’d smashed, again!!!
Pink or purple glow sticks guided the path towards the final 100 metres into CP3. Luke greeted us smiling, camera in hand. He’d realised quickly what we’d done.
Forget it. Get sorted, refuelled and out. I was beginning to get agitated and paced for a while and then sat down.
Sitting down I ate some soup and Coke. I’d happily been using Hammer Perpetuem as my main source of fuel, but it felt like I should get something solid into me before the night sections started. As I sat, the tiredness began to sneak up on me. My initial haste to get out was less now, I was getting comfy!
It was hard to put the situation out of my mind. Jules and Luke both told me to get up and we checked out. Once we were moving again I felt better. I switched to my head torch and began the long night that we were about to go into.
(Checkpoint 3: In 08:02pm – Out 8:47pm : Leg time 6hr 20mins Race time overall – 14h 02mins: Total distance 81.7km/50.7: Position 41th)