The Six Foot Track

After the cancellation of last year's Six Foot Track marathon (well....technically it's an ultramarathon as it's 45km long), we were offered the chance to enter this year or defer our places to next year (without having to go via the entry lottery again).  I knew that I had a lot of other races/runs on so I would be very tired, hence my decision to defer to 2022. The deferral would also mean that I had the time (if I ever found the motivation) to go and familiarise myself more with the first few kms of the race.....the thought of which still scared the living daylights out of me (steep, rough, rocky, dark, wet, technical, narrow downhill with everyone pushing and jostling for places and trying to pass). 

The start of the 6 Foot Track

When the Covid-safe plan for the race came out and I saw there would be rolling starts rather than wave starts, I did think it was rather a shame that I wasn't going to be able to run it this year as a rolling start would surely mean less congestion and argy-bargy on that dreaded starting section. After a few wines with my friend Julie one evening about 3 weeks prior to the race, I somehow found myself talked into emailing the race directors and asking if it would by any chance be possible to gain a late entry, and then using it as a chance to recce the run/course and see if I wanted to try actually running it hard next year. The race directors kindly (or ?unfortunately, as I thought at the time) obliged, so I duly paid my money and arranged to go up for the weekend with my Trotter clubmates.

Always fun hanging out with the Trotters on the way up

Despite some people trying to claim otherwise, I stuck to my guns of having no intention of going out and trying to "compete" at the run - I was just there to enjoy the weekend in the Blue Mountains, catching up with various friends (drinks and cakes were consumed in abundance) and enjoying running in a different place. A condition of my late entry was that I was put into the seeded start of Wave 1. Unfortunately for me, this was the only subsection of the field to have a mass start rather than a rolling one, but they still told us that we would have to line up on crosses drawn on the ground 1.5m apart, so it didn't sound like there would be too much of a crush anyway.

One of our clubmates who wasn't competing had kindly offered to do lots of chauffeuring (which saved a lot of hassle and time getting to the start etc) and so he dropped the first group of us in the cool dawn light to walk to the start line. By the time we got there it was getting light, which was a relief as I hadn't wanted to have to wear a headtorch. There was minimal officiousness with the starting pens as it seemed like anyone could walk into the elite line up and say they were meant to be there. No-one seemed to line up on the crosses and move forward with social distancing, and as soon as the gun was fired, everyone seemed to head down the trail, so I found myself at the back of the pack before having crossed the line without even trying!

Starting off at the back with Bron

The initial forest road was steep and rough but vaguely runnable so people had spreadout by the time it narrowed into the singletrack rocky steps. I only actually caught and passed one person on the steps and the only person behind me was Neil (another Trotter) who declined to pass and instead explained the first part of the course to me as we descended. You'd have to be pretty confident (or mad) to go at significant pace down there as not only were the rocks wet and slippery, but there were also raised wooden edges in places, and the overhanging foliage made it rather dark. Neil reassured me that this stretch wasn't too long and that the rest of the route would be much more runnable, but I still breathed a sigh of relief when the path flattened out and widened up. I still hardly increased my pace as my legs were feeling rather heavy and leaden from all the exertions of the prior weekends, and so I watched Neil disappear off into the distance, along with several other runners who then shot past me.

After climbing up and down a stile off the dirt road, we headed back onto some lovely single track winding through grass and in and around some trees to cross a road at one place where people could come and cheer the runners on. Dave had driven down from the Central Coast early that morning to cheer all the Trotters on so it was lovely to see him there and hear that I looked (although I didn't feel it) nice and relaxed :-)

The next section was all single track but it flowed up and down over undulating grassland and creeks. There were a few steps, a couple of stiles and some short sharp climbs/descents, but it seemed much easier to relax into a rhythm and enjoy the running here. It clearly suited me far more than the earlier sections as I started to catch and pass a few people along the trail. People had warned me about getting stuck in a train of runners for the last few narrow windy kms along the upper riverbank to the crossing point, but I'd presumed that everyone would be well strung out by then. A few people from the Wave 1 (but not elite) start had already caught me along the way, but those that closed the gap in this section did seem rather desperate to get past - in fact one was so keen that he pushed me into the lady in front and it was all I could do to avoid falling over (whilst apologising to her if I'd then bumped into her). A lady I passed warned me that I had a leech on my leg which seemed unusual for this part of the route as it was much drier here.....but she was 100% correct (and not just jokingly trying to get me stop running) as it then came off to leave a nice bloody trail down to my ankle.

I followed Bron down to the river (and was followed myself by Neil as I'd just passed him again), and then worried about being so close behind her as she had been touted as one of the potential race winners, but there was little I could do about that as we seemed to be moving at a remarkably similar pace. The river itself was a bit of a shock to the system, as people had warned me that I would definitely get my feet (and possibly my knees) wet and had given me various differing bits of advice about avoiding getting too much gravel in my shoes, and whether it was worth sitting down to take them off and empty them out etc. The race organisers have a rope strung across the river, but the guys all told me that they'd never used it when they'd run the race. 

Although it was a rather hot day, there had been a lot of rain in the preceding week and the river was way deeper than we expected - above nipple height for me and some of the shorter girls said that they couldn't reach the bottom and had to swim/haul themselves along using the rope (I did the latter as the current was also rather strong and swept me off my feet!!). I was rather glad that I hadn't opened the packets of sweets I had in my pockets as they would have become disgusting and sticky after such a soaking. The cold water was actually quite refreshing and although I couldn't be bothered to check my sodden shoes for gravel on the far side, I did visit the aid station on the far side for a very welcome drink of water.

After the crossing, the trail became a long uphill forestry road and although I started running along it, I slowed to a very relieved walk once I caught back up to Bron. She told me not to pace myself off her as she had run up there "in training" but was now hiking it, but I told her that I was more than happy to walk and chat a bit. I tried to run the flatter sections and walk the steeper ones - and now that I was totally soaking wet anyway, I didn't mind that the small "creeks" people would usually skip across were actually almost knee deep (on two occasions I scooped the water up over my head from them anyway!). I was feeling rather empty and tired so chomped away on my sweets whilst walking and marvelled at those ladies I could see ahead of me as they were actually running up the hill - respect to them as I couldn't manage it! 

There were some very welcome aid stations at the top of the hills (you got it - that long drag certainly wasn't the only climb!) and although they only had water and whole bananas, my walking pace meant that I had plenty of time to get my cup out of my pocket for them to fill it up. Although I know my walk was slower than the ladies ahead of me were running, when they walked or when I ran, I would close back up on them, and so passed a couple of them on the more runnable sections (though it did become a bit of a to and fro saga as we climbed and descended and then climbed and descended again).

The boys had suggested breaking the run up into three sections in my head, but I needed to break those sections down into smaller segments to keep myself motivated. They had told me that it was important not to exhaust myself on the hills so that I still had the legs to "run" the Black Ranges - I couldn't have gone faster up the hills even if I'd wanted to, but it was a nice relief  to be back running again and continue gradually moving up the field. I figured that I must've passed 10-15 ladies during the event so hoped that I had made it into the top 10 (which would mean avoiding the lottery to enter the 2022 event) and just had to maintain that all the way to the finish. That sounded easier than it was, as my run became a walk again on several occasions, but luckily no ladies seemed to be moving up faster than me so I felt safe if exhausted.

Desperately trying to to cramp up and fall down the hill!!!

Covid rules meant that there were few people out on course to cheer us on, but there was one spot about 10K from the finish where some could gather and it was lovely to recognise a friendly face or two (from previous races I've done over here) who then gave me personal encouragement. The last 10K still had a few stings in its tail - one being the aptly named "F*** You Hill".......just when you thought that you had done all of the climbing, you rounded a corner and hit another steep incline, and the unconscious exclamation most runners emitted led to the name. One thing that did help me get up here, was spotting a guy from my club just ahead of he - he is well known for starting off way too fast and blowing up, and clearly today was no exception. I tried to encourage him and get him to work with me so that we would both get to the finish in a respectable state, but he did not seem up for that at all so I just carried on at my own pace (as it turned out he had been 25 minutes ahead of me at the river crossing, yet finished a good 25 minutes behind me at the end which I confess gave me a private cheer as he is well known for thinking - and stating -  that "girls" aren't as good as "boys"!!).

Cheering my clubmates on from the side of the course later in the day...

I popped out of the bush and crossed the final road thinking that I must be almost there, but the road marshal told me that I still had 7K to go and so I nearly lost the will to live! That 7K was a long one as the single track climbed up and down (yes, including steps) alongside the road for some distance before turning away from it again and leading us uphill again. I might have been swearing at the uphill, but the descent from it was way worse - steep, narrow, rough and rocky as we had to descend all the way down into the valley towards the Jenolan Caves.

An aid station manned by some lovely Rural Fire Service men (in uniform!) broke it up, but it was even steeper after that point. They cheered me on and shocked me by telling me that I was the leading lady, and tried to encourage me by telling me what the distance to the finish was (unfortunately they work in kms and I run in miles so the positivity might have been lost in translation). I was so happy to get to the bottom of the descent in one piece and staggered up the next few metres of rocky climb just as a photographer jumped out from behind a rock....typical, just when I was walking so I forced myself to run again. I don't remember ever properly cramping up in a race before but it so nearly happened just after I passed him and so I thought I was going to fall down the last slope. Luckily for my pride I managed to stay on my feet, as some Trotter clubmates were sitting at the bottom ready to take photos and cheer us on. One of them congratulated me and told me that I just had a short easy road run to the finish from there......music to my ears!!

"Just an easy road run down to the finish...."

I turned 90 degrees and went over the bump that had kept Caves House hidden from view, and realised how much he'd deceived me. It was almost no horizontal distance to the finish but it was still a long way below me, and the path involved many hairpin bends (with useful handrails so I could stabilise myself and swing round them) and cobbles underfoot. I finally rounded the last corner, pelted down the steps and turned  to cross the line - I'd done it.....one of the slowest winning times in history I'm sure, but I'd made it in one piece! It was so lovely to be greeted by my aforementioned chauffeuring clubmate (hugging not allowed due to social distancing etc), and not have to think about how to get back to the car, the camping shower (basically a container with a shower attachment), a change of clothes, food and beer! 

Wow - a tape to cross!!

So happy to have made it in one piece!

As it turned out, the car park was right next to where our other clubmates had been sitting, so once I'd changed out of my wet clothes and shoes, I could go round and sit in the sun (with a beer) and cheer everyone else in......what a great friendly, supportive, all inclusive club the Trotters are....and I loved having another weekend away with them, so here's to many more!!!

The heaviest trophy ever....which I then had to hand back :-) 

Port Mac RunFest

After some “longer” runs it was suddenly back to shorter faster (well, that’s the idea anyway) races, kicking off with the 5000m for my other club (Mingara) at the NSW Country Championships. This is an annual competition for the “country” clubs, ie excluding all those who run in Sydney, and this year Mingara was hosting it so they wanted as many club members as possible to show their support. The longest event available was the 5000m track race and so although I hated the thought of it….the very idea of a “short” track race, the fact that the oldest age group eligible was 40-49 years, and the fact that it was being held on a Friday evening (officially 730pm but in fact we didn’t start until 8pm!!)….I figured I should get over it and represent the club.

With clubmate Tara after the 5000m

As it happened, it wasn’t (quite) as bad as I thought it would be, as the lateness of the event meant that some people had gone home, and although there weren’t very many women competing , all ages and sexes were combined together so it was easy to hide/lose yourself in the field. As usual, I started at the back (after hating the fact that they lined us all up on the line in numerical order so I couldn’t slot in behind the others) but eased my way into it and then just kept on going at that pace. The race announcements were rather confusing as they kept giving us splits and predicted times for the leading men (who were very speedy and on track record pace, lapping most of us at least a couple of times), and all they said whenever I crossed the finish/lap line was what my age was!!! Nice!!! I tried to tune that out and focus on the cheers/support from some friends who were in the stands offering much-needed encouragement! I could hear them announcing the “leading female” but what they failed to mention was that she was the leading female in the U20s race as I actually managed to lap her as I ran into the line. Not my fastest time, but it was an age group record for the club and I did take out the ladies’ win and score some vital points for the club!

Drinks and snacks pre-3K

The weekend afterwards was a Trotters’/girls’ weekend away as we had all entered the Port Macquarie Running Festival in one of its various forms. I traveled up with my friends Jackie and Monika (and Mon’ daughter Ash) as we were going to go out and stay with Mon’s parents on the Saturday night. We got to Port nice and early on the Saturday afternoon and registered for the Grand Slam of races - the Breakwall Buster Port Treble consisting of a half marathon, a 10K and a 5K on the Sunday morning, and a 3K for the indigenous foundation on the Saturday afternoon. After some food and a beer, we met Mon’s dad who was going to do the 3K with us. All3 of us girls had said that we were going to walk it, but we ended up having to run just to keep up with him (despite him running in sandals as he doesn’t own any joggers!!!). Luckily Ash joined us on the way back so we had a lovely time swinging her along the course and encouraging her by waving Koala Lou just ahead of her - it was so lovely to see Ash grinning at her Trotters “fans” on the run in, and proudly wearing her mum’s medal afterwards!

Mon's dad and his Trotter harem!

After a nice evening out in Wauchope (Mon’s dad was a chef - result!!!) including marshmallows toasted over the fire, we headed back to Port in the early morning to meet up with several other Trotters. Some were “just” doing the HM, some the 10K, but there was a large group of us doing the “Treble” and so we had a separate baggage area that we could go into as we would need to change our bibs and eat/drink between the events.

Ash and Koala-Lou joining us in the 3K :-) 

The starts were in self-seeded waves so the girls waved me off in the first one (they were going in the next one) and I was off. We started with people dashing headlong across some grass and then onto tarmac to start the first of three 7K laps along the the breakwall and a couple of roads/paths. As the laps were mainly just out and back, there were bollards set up to keep people clear of each other as they headed in different directions, but at first people were running both sides of them just to avoid congestion and settle into a pace. 

The Trotters pre-RunFest

I loved running in my Trotters vest as it led to lots of support en route (and not just from other Trotters!!) and it meant that I could easily spot club mates up ahead or going the other way once we started turning back on ourselves and even lapping each other. People commented on the fact that I got stronger as the race progressed and even ran a “negative split” but I don’t think that this was actually the case, it just appeared to be so, due to how fast others started - and the heat of the day definitely caught most of us rather unawares and so everyone slowed down. I wasn’t sure how much my head was “in the game” as I wanted to stop on several occasions, especially as the aid stations, but I did manage to reel in a couple of ladies and finish in 3rd position in a much faster time than I’d anticipated. The winners of both male and female races looked amazing……as if they were just out for an easy morning jog, but I consoled myself with the fact that they weren’t backing up and doing the Treble (though I doubt I could have run faster even if the HM was my “target” race) - and full marks goes to my club mate Mark who set a 2 minute PB finishing 3rd in the men’s race!

The Trotter "Treble" girls

The format of the event was that the HM started at 7am, the 10K at 9am and the 5K at 10am, so the amount of rest you got in between events (if doing them all) was related to how fast you completed them. I had a bit of a gap after the HM so it gave me time for a drink and a snack and then, having not actually spotted the portaloos in the Treble enclosure, I wandered off in search of a toilet. I found it so hard to get my legs moving again after stopping, that a few people asked me if I was OK, and if I needed a wheelchair or a medic, so I did wonder how on earth I would manage to run again.

It didn't feel too bad in the first lap

I cheered the girls in, we changed our numbers, and then I headed back to the start for my wave of the 10K. This time we had 2 laps of 5K to run (which meant they’d taken out the only real decline and incline that had been in the extra part of the HM loop) but as we started along the exact same route as before we were mingling in with HM runners who still had their final lap to go. 

It definitely got harder as the laps passed

It did take me more than the initial grass stretch until I felt like I could actually run properly, but then I realised that I actually felt OK going out again. As it turned out (talking to everyone else afterwards, we all felt exactly the same) this “running euphoria” was rather short-lived as by the time I’d run 3K, I suddenly found myself wondering how on earth I was going to get round the next 7.

By the time you lapped people it
was hard to work out who was racing who

By the time I started the second lap )how I wished that there had only been the one), I was really feeling the heat (and the exhaustion). I caught the girls in second and third place twice but on each occasion, I thought I was risking much more serious heat issues so decided to take shirt walking breaks at the aid stations whilst drinking water and pouring it over my head (and so they overtook me on both occasions). As it happens I closed back up on them again into the finish and was just a couple of seconds behind them, having been a good 20s behind after 5K, but the breaks clearly paid off (though at the time I just thought that was being mentally weak whenever I walked) as the girl that came in second ended up having a couple of drips as soon as she finished and being carted off by the medics, poor lass! Then again,  respect to her as I just cannot push myself that hard!

The 10K was definitely less "fun"!!

After the 10K, they said that they would delay the start of the 5K by 10 minutes as the course was getting so crowded with people going in various directions at various speeds in various different races, but suddenly I heard them say that a lot of the Treble runners were starting to cramp up and so they were setting them off there and then. Luckily it was chip timed as I was too stiff to get across to the start line for the off, but I had worked out that I had a good lead on the next lady in the Treble anyway so if she managed to make up that deficit over 5K then she deserved to beat me anyway!

Jackie, Mon and myself with our bling!!

A cyclist drew alongside me and asked if I was the leading lady in the Treble and then started cycling in front of me, saying that she’d clear a path through some of the runners still participating in earlier events. This sounded good in principle but I did warn her that I was probably running a lot slower than she would have expected. Soon after that she disappeared off, as the “actual 5K runners” had started and she was going to cycle with their leaders….which was fine with me, as then I could have some walking/drinking/pouring water over myself breaks without feeling too guilty (not that anything would have stopped me having them by then anyway). 

The Trotter "survivors" photo!

It was nice to still be getting support en route and see my club mates out running, as whenever I saw someone I knew (and when I saw the lady chasing me down in the Treble) it did push me back into running from walking….and I finally made it back home to the finish hot and bothered, but happy :-) After a lot to drink, much ice on my head and neck, and a couple of bags of lollies, I cheered the other Trotters in - everyone did amazingly, but special respect goes to Mon who had just had several months out with a stress fracture but managed to complete all 36K of the Treble mainly on cross training, and on such a hot sunny day too! What a fab weekend it was!!!

Not a bad interlocking bling haul from the weekend :-) 

The Snowy Mountain Ultra

Before I ran Coast to Kosci, everyone had told me how amazing it was to run through the Snowy Mountains, but as I mentioned in my description of the race, I didn't quite get my pacing right to appreciate this, and so ran through Jindabyne at about 1:30am, ie in total darkness. To make up for this, one of my friends suggested I go down for the weekend with him to run the Snowies Ultra, in order to actually appreciate the beauty of the area. I wasn't sure that I was really up for the race itself (especially as it was the same friend who'd suggested the bike ride to Forster.....though I thought I'd give his suggestions a second chance!) but jumped at the chance of a weekend away visiting an (almost) new area.

The Strzelecki Monument

We went down on the Friday after work and so kicked off the weekend with a cheeky run at Jindabyne parkrun. This is a double lap, out and back course past the Strzelecki Monument along the beautiful lakeshore. I started off feeling OK for the first km or so and found myself working my way up to the pointy end of the field, but as I had no clue as to the pace that I was running, I figured that everyone was holding back to save themselves for the Trail Festival on the next day. Unfortunately there was no-one in front of me when I got back to the start ready for the second lap, so I made a slight navigational error in thinking that I had to run down towards the finish flags before turning back rather than just doing a 180 round a marker flag. At the time it didn't bother me in the slightest, and I had no issues with being overtaken on the second lap, but when our results emails came through and I saw that I'd missed the ladies' CR by a mere couple of seconds, I could have kicked myself....but then again, I am my own harshest critic!

The first lap of parkrun

The rest of the day was spent sightseeing (I have to say that visiting Thredbo is rather a non-event out of ski season!), registering for the run, and generally carb-loading (yummmmm!!!!).

Suddenly having no-one to follow!!!

It was an early start to drive up to Crackenback Resort (the event hub) for the silly o'clock briefing (in the dark), where we were handed masks and asked to board the buses that would take us all the way back down the valley to the start line.  The usual limited number of female toilets meant that several of us almost missed the race start as we had to get running at a decent pace just to make it into the starting area in time - I'm not sure that being out of breath is ever a good look on a start line!! 

We all set off across a rough field (well there was a narrow path to follow but it was single track and so by far too narrow for the number of runners there) through some long grass but eventually ended up in single file on the winding path that led through the trees up and down many climbs and round sharp corners and hairpins along the riverbanks back up in the general direction of Crackenback. I found myself running along in a train of people which I really didn't like, not just because I'm really clumsy and so like to be able to see where I'm going and what is coming up ahead of me, but more because the line of people behind me pressurised me into running at a faster pace than I wanted to go and I worried that I would not be able to complete the distance. 

By the time we'd covered about 5km, I was running in my own space at my own speed, and was feeling comfortable and so actually over took a few other single runners, both men and women, and then worked my way gradually past a couple of groups (as it wasn't the easiest thing to pass people on the single trail whilst looking out for rocks and other obstacles). It was lovely to feel as if you were just out for a nice weekend run by yourself winding through woodland as the sun came up and the temperature gradually increased....it reminded me of some of the places I used to run at home and it was nice to only be able to see really short sections of the trail ahead due to the twists, turns and geberaly bush overgrowth  :-)

After about 20K we came to Crackenback Resort for the first time - to be fair it was after about 17K, but then we seem to be sent round the houses on a tour of the resort and grounds on paths and bike trails, but it did mean that we got some cheers as we passed accommodation areas, and then again as we passed by the general finish area (and start of the shorter runs). Surprisingly enough, I seemed to be running fairly well coming into this checkpoint as I passed several people whilst running round the resort, including a lady who looked amazingly strong and had been way out of sight the whole time up until then.

The first time we saw the finish line....and had to run past it!!

After passing through the event Hub, there was a nasty steep hill to climb and so I lost all my momentum and mojo, and could only watch the backs of guys disappearing into the distance in the next few hundreds of metres of technical rocky single track usually frequented only my mountainbikers, but luckily this didn't last forever as it soon opened up into more runnable paths and so I could catch up to the guys again. We were all going slightly different paces and so the chain was quite brief and I was back to running on my own. It was starting to heat up and I felt myself flagging so I broke the run up into sections in my head - get to the 10K turnaround, then get to the half marathon turnaround, then lookout for the lead runners coming back. Each "segment marker" did take a while to appear so I used some of the "undulations" as nutrition breaks, being fully aware that I really needed to make myself eat and drink more. Each time we crossed over the river, the bridges seemed to get steeper and steeper, but passing through the various turnarounds was quite encouraging as I learnt that I was actually the leading lady and had just snuck into the top 10 overall......though I thought that I must look like a wreck compared to the men I saw flying back towards home with apparent ease!

After crossing the umpteenth humpback bridge, I came across a marshal who directed me back down the far side of the river and told me it was 100m to the turnaround so (although it turned out to be a very very long 100m) I declared my undying love for her on the spot!!! The little trail opened into a grassy clearing and as I saw a man running towards me on my right, I headed over to the left towards the people I saw sitting around supporting the runners. Left was not the right way to go so I was called back by the turnaround marshal, but eventually I got there. I did take a proper break there to pour water over my head, fill my bottle, drain it and then refill it before heading back off, but I figured that losing a place in the field to one of the male runners was definitely worth some time for self-care!

Any lift I felt about now being headed for home soon faded as I was definitely flagging (due to the heat and to tired legs) but it was nice to be able to see runners going in the other direction and mutually encourage each other. I tried to do some maths and work out what kind of lead I had on the next few ladies, and whether my many walking breaks would mean that they were likely to catch me before I got back to the finish (I always presume that no-one else is flagging as much as I am!!!). I stopped at every aid station on the way back, sometimes for longer than planned as there was only one water canister as each place and people on the outward leg of both the ultra and the half marathon event were wanting to fill up (and I did actually get told off by one marshal for not using the hand sanitiser after filling up my bottle as well as before....so you can just imagine what queues ensued!).

I don't remember feeling that happy at that point!!

All of a sudden people going the other way started to tell me that "you've nearly got her" and that "she's not far ahead"....and I couldn't work out what they meant as I knew (both from earlier comments and from watching other runners going to/from the turnaround point) that there were no ladies in front of me. Not long after that I spotted a woman running ahead of me, but I figured that she must have just been unlucky enough to have gone out for a trail run at the same time as the races were being held. When I caught up to her I saw that she had a number pinned onto her chest and so I asked her which event she was in, thinking it was odd that I hadn't as yet seen any other half marathon runners. When she told me that she was doing the 50K, I suggested that she had accidentally missed the correct turnaround, but she replied that she'd just been there. Unfortunately, the turnaround I'd not long run past was for the half marathon, which meant that she'd actually missed 8k (4k each way) of the Ultra course. It wasn't going to affect my result as I was travelling faster than she was, but I let the marshals know at the next check point and also at the finish, as I thought that it might significantly affect some of the other ladies who should otherwise be on the podium.

In the last part of the race I was really worried that I'd gone the wrong way, despite not having seen any turnoffs. There was nobody in sight either ahead or behind me, and I could not see any route markers, yet I could hear people running in the other direction almost parallel to me but through some thick bushes. Luckily, just as I was starting to panic and wonder what to do, I turned a corner and found myself running along some bollards that separated outgoing and incoming runners. I knew that we were going to be sent on another tour of the resort before finally getting to the finish line, and that I would be much slower round it than when I'd gone that way earlier - but in my mind it was only a couple of kms. 

Why do they make the podium blocks so high
at the end of an Ultra?

Trying to reinforce my belief that I'd almost made it, I asked a lone marshal if I was almost back, and nearly committed murder when he told me I had "about 5km to go". As it turns out my memory was more accurate than his comment but those last couple of kms did involve a couple of short sharp hills (that I walked up). All of a sudden I could hear the MC at the finish line, and then I was running down a narrow track, crossing a road, along a field and over the final road before "sprinting" up the last grassy slope to the line! 

I was so happy to have made it in one piece that I completely missed the "Man from Snowy River" on his horse until I was asked to pose for a photo with him. I was luckier than I thought to have finished when I did as it was "only 34 degrees" and those out for longer had to bear another couple of degrees so the medics ended up treated lots of people for heat problems (including those who'd run the shorter distance events too) as well as many people who'd tripped/stumbled/come a cropper on course (I'd managed to get away with just rolling the same ankle I'd rolled in Tassie a fortnight before).

A trophy and a wreath!

All in all, race conditions were a lot tougher than I'd expected (I thought it would be cool in the "Snowy Mountains"!!) but I was glad I'd made the trip down as it was a beautiful place to run, and who can argue with a cheeky unexpected race win? 

Cradle Mountain Run (well....kinda run...)

I may have just had a low mileage week in running terms, but the crazy bike ride definitely meant that I was still feeling rather dead in the legs and low in energy in general as I boarded a plane to return to Tassie. On my last trip Iestyn had suggested the Cradle Mountain Run as being one for the bucket list, and when a place came up on it (numbers are limited to 60 per year, due to the National Parks restricting the number of people using the trail every day) a few days later, I couldn't resist. 

The Overland Track

He had sold it to me as a fun run along the Overland Track from Cradle Mountain in the north, to Lake St Clair in the south, which is about 80K in total......but when I got there, I realised that it was actually a serious race - oops!! Still - at least we agreed that we wouldn't take the racing aspect seriously and just enjoy a good long day out running, chatting and generally catching up (and as he'd done it several times before, I'd have my own private tour guide!!). I'd managed to beg/borrow/steal all the compulsory kit from various friends (and there was a lot....including 3 tops, 2 sets of bottoms, a survival bag, a map, compass, snake bandage and so on) and attach it somehow to my only decent running pack, which was rather too small for such an undertaking. 

Morning roll call

The Tassie weather that evening and overnight did show why there was a need for so much compulsory kit as it absolutely poured down with rain (complete with rolling thunder etc), but luckily had just about stopped by the time we gathered (in the dark) for the 5:30am roll call. The first section was on boardwalk heading downhill and as I didn't really trust my shoes to grip on it I hung back slightly as people surged off at 6am. Luckily Iestyn was the person ahead of me (allbeit with a large gap between us) but I did keep apologising to the guys behind me for "slowing them down". They were lovely and assured me that if they'd wanted to go faster then they would have set off further forward in the field.

Boardwalk-tastic...

We soon started climbing up....and the climb involved both large steps (some wooden edged and some rocky) and metal chains, which took me slightly by surprise, but everyone assured me that the rest of the "run" wasn't like that. Iestyn pointed out Cradle Mountain and Dove Lake to me....or rather, he pointed out the direction that they were in, as we were surrounded by thick cloud and so couldn't see anything of the amazing views!!

Sleeves up, sleeves down..

I felt totally empty, and so told Iestyn that he really shouldn't wait for me and to run at his own pace, but he said that he was happy to go my speed as I was his "pacing bunny" to try to prevent him from going out too fast, blowing up and then having to death march to the finish. One or two runners passed us but we seemed to be at the right place in the field for our pace so it did just feel like we were the only people out there - and I was just going for a run with a mate (well, there was another ex-pat Brit who ran and chatted with us for a lot of the first few kms - which made for interesting conversation as he now lives in Launceston with his wife who is doing research into GI problems in ultrarunners, especially female ones).

Spotting the edge of the mountains

As we crossed the plateau (on some more narrow boardwalks), the cloud came and went so I did actually get some amazing views of Barn Bluff, and of the side of Cradle Mountain. These glimpses teased me (when I had the chance to look up from my feet) and showed me what a magical place we were running through....and I did appreciate how lucky we were to be there. 

Barn Bluff!!

After that the weather was very much hit and miss for the whole of the rest of the day - we had patches of sunshine, but also rain showers and some periods of strong gusty winds, so it was kind of impossible to decide if you were hot or cold and if the wet was coming "outside in" or "inside out". I couldn't be bothered to keep taking my pack on and off to change so just alternated sleeves up and sleeves down and got on with it.

Teasing me with lovely views ...

Despite (or maybe that should be "as well as") the variable weather conditions, the run had it all in terms of ups and downs, technical stretches and runnable sections, dryish boardwalks and soaking singletrail ( I think my feet spent more time under water than they did out of it), windswept barren plateaus and dense cloud forest, leeches, mud.......it's hard to describe how much was packed into the one trail. Although it was just the two of us for most of the time, we did see a few walkers that were hiking the Overland Track over several days, both out on the trail and relaxing by the huts along the route. The huts themselves were useful as places to refill our water bottles, as although there were a few checkpoints en route, no support was provided for us as we had to be self sufficient. 

Cloudforest and streams

Eating and drinking as I go tend to be a forte of mine so although I don't think that I actually get stronger as the day progresses, I think that I fade less than other people, and it certainly seemed to be true on that day, as by the time we'd covered 30K, I was the one encouraging Iestyn along. Times didn't matter to us, so we chilled out as Iestyn  (along with several others) had warned me that the last section was definitely the toughest stretch from a mental point of view. When we came to the final checkpoint at Narcissus Hut we were still well within the time cut offs, so the last section was on. If you miss this cut off, you then have to take a ferry down Lake St Clair to the finish line (hence the need to carry $50 in your compulsory kit), but otherwise there was no cutting it short option (in previous years people have been allowed to finish their run there and ferry it back down the lake), though thankfully they did provide potato crisps, sweets and fruit at this hut to keep energy levels up.

Coming into Narcissus Hut

The final section sounds like it should really be a nice gentle "glory leg" if you can have one of those that lasts for 15K, as you officially "run along the lakeshore".....but that is not exactly how it is on the ground. Even with fresh legs, I would say that it is not exactly an easily runnable trail as it winds up and down around trees, over rocks and roots, through mud patches and overgrown plants. I managed to stumble on a rock when the trail was hidden by long grass, so rolling my ankle and throwing me off sideways into the undergrowth, but at least I could still get up and continue. I now know why Iestyn had told me that this was the worst part of the day, as it really did seem to go forever - just when you thought that you must be almost there as you dropped back down to the lake shore, you found yourself climbing away from it again. He did say that in past years, he had been more exhausted by this point so had always lost places in those final few kms, but although we felt rather knackered ourselves, we were obviously doing better than some, as we did overtake a couple of other runners.

The "lakeshore run"

Finally we reached the part that I'd had to cover 78K of trail for - the final 2km were along a gravel fire road, and so although it was very slightly uphill (well, it felt like it was significantly uphill but I'm sure it was actually almost flat), we picked up the pace considerably, distancing ourselves from those we'd just passed and finishing together in a time of about 11 and three quarter hours. We actually had to pass kit check again at the finish, but we didn't care as we'd had a great day out, put the world to rights many times over, drank the best can of Solo we'd ever had.....removed leeches and mud and then went in search of the "proper food" we'd been talking about for about 14 of those last 15Kms!

Finishing together

The best can of Solo!!!

A "wee" weekend away....

Sometimes you need to take a risk and get right out of your comfort zone, but sometimes it's also good to remain in the dark about what you are letting yourself in for. I can't really decide if the former or the latter is a better description of the bike ride I found myself on the other day.

I had been feeling a bit "meh" about running and so one of my Trotter mates suggested I go on a weekend bike ride with a group of likeminded people as a change. I was rather worried about joining the group as I'm no great shakes on a bike and I think that the furthest I've ridden without a break is about 50k, and even that was a while ago.......so I was worried about being the annoying slowcoach that everyone had to keep waiting for and hence ruined the trip. My friend persuaded me that I'd be fine as I had "running endurance" and that it was just meant to be a fun trip away with no pressure of speed or times, so (with some trepidation remaining in my heart) I packed an overnight bag and we cycled down to the meeting point on Saturday morning.

The "starters"

Having slung my backpack in a car and successfully hidden behind others in the pre-event photos, we set off. It started off as a nice social chatty ride and so I wondered what I had been worried out, but then I did hear a few warning signs, such as when the guys cycling along behind me talked about it being a nice gentle pace that they could easily sustain and how far they usually cycle.....or when the guy I was chatting to told me that he was "just doing the 80k option", ie turning round at 40K.....if that was "just" 80K, then how far was I meant to be going??? He also instructed me in some cycling etiquette, eg about always passing on the outside, not overlapping wheels....and told me that unless I learned how to "draft" I wouldn't make it!! That wasn't the most confidence-inspiring thing to say, as I am incredibly nervous about crashing, as I have broken both legs coming off bikes (and one time was due to someone cutting me up and taking out my wheel) and so I like to have my own space and see clearly where I'm going and any upcoming obstacles - the antithesis of drafting!

I was initially lulled into a false sense of security by the size of the group, and by the fact that other people got punctures, as these things meant that I wasn't ever at the back....and was even one of the people that had to wait for others, though there were a couple of faster riders that didn't seem to be so much "team players" and kept riding off. I actually think it may have been one of these cyclists that caused our first major drama of the trip, cutting past another guy on his inside so he wobbled and ended up sliding off the road into a ditch and hurting himself with various open skin cuts and grazes. He seemed to be fairly OK (well nothing was broken anyway) so I was told that as one of the slowest there, I should just keep going, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise as the next section was rather a nightmare for me. It should have been a lovely coast down some sweeping hills into Swansea and whilst we were on a major road it was fairly wide and had a decent surface, but unfortunately by this point in time the heavens had well and truly opened! Not only did I find it almost impossible to see where I was going due to the rain, but the cars and trucks shooting past were also spraying up fountains of water, people were coming on and off the road to my right and left, and I feared that any sudden action on my brakes would send me skidding across the tarmac like Bambi on ice. Clearly I was alone in my fears, as everyone shot past me while I just clung on for dear life, trying not to swear or cry but at least I made it to the bottom safely and to our regrouping point (ie another snack stop for me) at the start of the Fernleigh Track.

On the road....

The Fernleigh felt like familiar territory for me as I raced the NSW 15K champs along it in 2019, though I don't remember it being as downhill a run as the ride felt uphill! I was cycling along next to the guy who'd had the earlier accident and he said that one of the cuts he'd suffered was right across the front of his knee and that he felt it was opening up with every pedal stroke so he thought he'd probably stop when we got to the ferry in Newcastle (yeay....well boo for him.....but yeay for me, as that meant that as long as I could keep going to that point, I wouldn't be the first to DNF :-) ). One of the 2 other girls on the ride got another couple of punctures on this section, so again I wasn't actually last as we headed into Newcastle. The girl that was the likely culprit for the accident, again showed her disregard for anyone on the road apart from herself as she cut across cars and almost caused a major accident by ignoring traffic lights and stop signs in the busy street of downtown Newcastle. Despite these dramas, we made it to the ferry safe and sound, but the extra time taken meant that instead of a sit down feed, I was still trying to drink my takeaway coffee and eat my slab of delicious hot buttered banana bread whilst wheeling my bike onto the boat for the short crossing to Stockton (though it was hard not to think of it as Gateshead, being just across the river from Newcastle!!).

The crossing only took a few minutes and then we all cycled off round the streets of Stockton together. After a few kilometres we were onto the open roads heading towards the airport and the "peloton" spread out into various small groups. I was accompanied by Elissa on this stretch and so we had a lovely sociable chatty ride trading very very bad jokes (and singing appallingly). We pulled into our next pitstop having just ticked over the 100K mark and I did comment that it had taken way less time than I would take to run 100K but that I was probably a lot better at running the distance than riding it. A couple of guys were finishing their ride for the day here, and so they hopped off their bikes and into the two cars that had been accompanying us, whilst the two that had driven up that point jumped out and onto their bikes. Luckily (or unluckily as it meant that I no longer had an excuse to stop), one of the guys offered to lend me his back wheel as he wasn't going to be cycling any further that day. My bike had been making some very strange noises up until that point, and  one of the guys who has much more bike-knowledge than me (admittedly it isn't hard to know more than nothing!!) diagnosed that the bearings in my back wheel had gone, hence it had been complaining and wobbling around for the whole ride up until that point.

My hands were already starting to protest - and this is how they ended up!!!

The next section of the ride started rather scarily as we had to cross the main highway between Sydney and Brisbane to get to the shoulder on the far side and then cycle up it. I was definitely flagging by this point, not just because of my lack of cycle fitness, but because my lack of confidence on the bike means that I am too scared to take my hands off my handlebars (and brakes) and so I cannot eat and drink whilst cycling. On a positive note, the road surface was good, it was only gently undulating and the verge was nice and wide so my friend Darren could cycle with me to keep me going, and we could safely fit side by side and not feel endangered by all the trucks passing by. We stopped in a layby/picnic area so that I could have a little feeding break and sit down, which really helped me make it to the "official" lunch stop at Bulahdelah where there were "real shops".

Mark post-Bulahdelah-dismount!

I was so excited to be able to go straight to the little supermarket and buy ice cream, chocolate and coke and then have a sit down to chat with the others - some of the stories were great, such as one guy cramping up so badly that he literally fell off his bike on arrival there, and then lying down and falling fast asleep as soon as he'd had his lunch. Unfortunately, although some of them had been there for a good 20 minutes longer than us, we'd only been there for 10 minutes before one of the others said "right, that's a long enough break, let's hit the road", which definitely caused me to swear and mutter under my breath that it was alright for her, as she was one who'd just got out of a car and started riding! The road got much hillier from Bulahdelah onwards and it was starting to get really hot, so I wasn't exactly enjoying it. One of my problems is definitely my stubbornness, so rather than give up and hitch a ride in one of the cars, I just kept going....though I did find it rather hard to cycle and cry at the same time!

How far??!!!

Darren stuck with me the whole time, and though I really worried that I was ruining his ride for him, he assured em that he didn't mind what speed he went as it was just about enjoying the trip and spending time in the saddle (well, it was certainly more time with me than if he'd been going it alone!). One of the guys in the cars kept pulling into laybys until we passed just top make sure that we were OK which was lovely of him, but at the next meeting point, I suggested that he could then go ahead as we were "almost" there and I reckoned I'd just about manage it. The meeting point was a famous cherry pie shop but they were just closing up as Darren and I arrived. Thankfully they stayed open long enough to give us cokes and luminous blue slushy drinks (which soon had us both clutching our eyes/temples with ice cream headaches) and we were soon on our way again.

On arrival at Forster, on hearing I had to climb the stairs...

I got a second wind as I felt that the end was in sight.....well, at least the turn off from the highway was....and the last section went on and on. It was much quieter traffic-wise once we'd left the highway, but the road surface was also much worse....and the road seemed to consist of never ending corners and undulations. Eventually we saw houses and found ourselves cycling down the main street of Tuncurry. We almost witnessed a major accident as a car pulled out across the traffic ahead of us, right into the path of an oncoming van, but luckily disaster was averted and we carried on up onto the bridge over to Forster. A slight detour round the streets of Forster and we'd finally arrived, just before the heavens opened with a torrential downpour of rain. I got off my bike and lay down on the pavement, only to be told that I was staying in an upstairs room and had to carry my bike up to it....but once this was done, it was finally time to wash, relax, go to the pub and the famous ice cream shop that it was the only reason I'd agreed to the ride. It was amazing, but I'm not sure that I would ever cycle over 220Km for an ice cream again!

Hurrah for ice cream!!!

I had wondered if my "broken wheel" would get me out of the ride home, but (unfortunately?) 2 of the guys that had arranged to carshare and do half of the ride each, kindly offered me the use of one of their wheels when they weren't riding.....so I had to zip up my mansuit and get on with it (after the obligatory early morning cafe trip before we hit the road). The road back to the highway seemed an awful lot better when you hadn't already ridden almost 200km, and I felt much less guilty about being at the back of the group, as I had offered to drop out on several occasions if I was slowing everyone down. Darren stuck with me at the back again, and as it turned out, every time we got to a regroup area, there was at least one other splinter group who'd dropped off the pace and arrived not long before us. My cycling (a bit like my running) is dependent on food, so I was glad that we had ordered ahead for our "second breakfast" at Bulahdelah and then were handed doughnuts or crisps etc by the support cars at other breakpoints.

The morning cafe crowd

3 people stopped 100K into this second day but I decided to carry on a bit further  - in for a penny, in for a pound - but then came to regret this not long afterwards. The stretch out to the airport (which I'd quite enjoyed on the way up) was horrendous. It probably wasn't as bad for the group ahead - not just because they're much stronger cyclists than me, but because they could take it turns to act as windbreaks for each other - but I found that at times I was making almost no headway along the road as the wind in my face was so strong. I didn't even have the breath to swear, but I could not think of a single enjoyable thing about that stretch of ride.....and at one point even had a sit down protest (and a chocolate bar) at the side of the road!! Poor Darren....having to put up with me....especially when my temper frayed a bit more as he couldn't quite remember the route to the ferry, so we did an extra tour of the streets of Stockton! Big apologies are obviously due!

Getting on with it...

After the ferry I knew it wasn't far to the Fernleigh Track which would be sheltered, so I decided to pedal there and reassess, and as the Track was more downhill than uphill, I was even talked into going a bit further than that (despite another girl dropping out). The back car kept checking up on us and I managed to keep going all the way up the hills out of Swansea and past Catherine Hill Bay before finally calling it a day at Lake Munmorah. It was starting to get late now and I felt that whatever he said, Darren had given up so much of the enjoyment of his ride to stick with me (payback for talking me into it?) that he'd appreciate getting his head down and powering along the last few kms. There wasn't that far left to go, but this way meant that we got back in time for the "Finishers' Photo" before everyone else headed off home.....which I then had to do on my bike - talk about a glutton for punishment!!

"Finishers"

My stubbornness had really proved itself that weekend but although I was rather knackered, I was quietly proud of myself for not quitting (or not quitting earlier anyway!)....and surprisingly enough, it wasn't my legs that showed the most damage from the weekend but my poor hands, as despite having worn cycling gloves, it took weeks for the blisters on the palms of my hands to settle....which shows how much I was clinging on for dear life I guess!! Oh well Sally....it may be a while before you get another ride out....and so I may take a long time fixing your wheel to give me a decent excuse for refusing any more cycling invites!!