Conquering Mountains

Sometimes, school is less important than life. Less important than family, adventure and the great outdoors. Certainly less important than a mountain, or climbing that mountain.... especially when it's Victorias highest peak.... Mt Bogong.

So the kids had a day off and we climbed Mt Bogong. Now if I had been a sensible parent, I would have researched all the routes up said mountain, and chosen the easiest, shortest one. Ahhhh hindsight is a marvellous thing.

We went up the Staircase Spur (certainly the hardest way up) from the carpark. 10K up, and then 10k down. Eric is only just 9, Trent is 10 and the girls are a little older ;) What great kids I have that they were totally up for this adventure, physically and mentally.

We started out about 9am, packs sorted, jackets, food, water and assorted first aid bits and pieces.
The trip itself was uneventful in terms of problems. We enjoyed each others company, checked out the scenery, ate, sat, climbed and had fun for about 8km.

Then we were stuffed. Tired, sore and getting chilly. We could see the top, but it never came! At one stage we had stopped and sitting at the memorial to fallen climbers. I suggested this could be our 'top' and we could leave. But our conversation turned to the fact that we would not be able to talk about climbing Victoria's highest peak. We would have to lie, or say that we gave up.

Neither of those were an option, so we pushed on to the top. Straight up, ignoring the trail, we got to the cairn! The boys promptly climbed to the top of the rock pile, full of energy again. They collected more rocks to add to the huge monument. We ate again (must carry more food next time...) and then began our descent. Eric did ask if I could just get the car and pick them up, as he was tired. To his credit he didnt get upset when I told him he had to go all the way down now.

After about 7.5 hours we reached our car, a little tired, still great friends and totally in love with life. I will treasure this memory forever. To be able to do something that I love, with my kids, in our great country, extraordinary.

I love you guys xxx And yes, you do have to go to school tomorrow.

Glass House 100k

My best 100k so far. I say that, since I reckon I can do better. Lots better. If only I trained more, harder, better, got faster and wore the right shoes.....

I decided to take my whole family with me this time, as the run is in Queensland, a good chance to visit the grandparents and cousins.


Last year, my brother Scott had decided to start doing a little running, after helping me out at TNF100k. He was hooked in about a month, and now, 9 months after starting running, he was lining up for his first 100k with me. What a buzz for me to get to do this with him. We've always gotten along well, but lately we are finding lots in common, and a real love for bush trail running.

We arrived in Queensland a few days before, and spent some time hanging out with family, and talking tactics. The basic idea was to go out slow, then get slower and lastly, go as slow as possible and still get home in under 18 hours. Prior to this, my best finish was 22.57. We calculated a very precise and complicated pacing schedule, which I thought would last about 40k before the wheels fell off, but hey, outwardly I was optimistic.


Driving up to the the Glass House Mtns was exciting, the nervous tension/sick feeling in my stomach growing with each km. I was really worried that I would ruin Scott's race, that he would need to leave me broken at a checkpoint somewhere. But I put it all aside, and prepared for the onslaught of heaps of family/friends coming up. In all there were 12 of us, for 2 racing! My mum, Marty, my girls (helping to crew), the 2 boys, Deb (crew), Scott's 2 girls, and Sue (to help with the kids).


We went out for the pre race tour and lunch, so nice to catch up with old friends and meet some new folks. I was a bit freaked out with all the places we drove to, I was going to rely on Scott, who seemed to know exactly where we were all the time.

Back to pack some gear (I was seriously underprepared here) and some food, and go to the briefing and dinner. It was midnight before I got to bed, and was up again at 4am. I felt rested, scared, and ready to go.


Standing in the predawn light chatting, waiting for the gun to go, when I realised it had started. Just an 'off you go' or somthing similar. We jogged off to our adventure. A 10k loop back to the start before a trip up a big hill. We made good time here, moving quite well and chatting to other runners. I noticed a niggle in my right hip, but it wasnt too bad, so I kept moving.

This pretty much summed up the whole race... a little niggle or hassle here and there, but we kept moving. Our CP stops were fast, our crew brilliant, always ready to do anything we needed. Scott maintained a perfect pace, all I had to do was keep up with him. The heat started to bother me, and since I don't sweat, I started to get the familiar sick feeling of heating up internally. 3 solutions came to hand.... I took off the injinji socks I was wearing, cooling my feet, Scott gave me his straw hat, which covered my head, shoulders and back, and I grabbed a towel soaked in ice water and put it over my head and shoulders. I managed to keep moving through the powerlines (2 falls here) and the 8 loop without too much discomfort.


Having promised Scott that when the sun went away, I'd be able to run again, we made up good time in the section out to CP7, where we saw seris and eagle, buzz light year, brick and a couple of others. What a huge thrill for me to see people like this in a run. I know they were 10 in front of us, hey..... only 10k!! This spurred me on to move a bit faster. We had made it 3/4 through the race in daylight, an excellent pace for us.


There was one section during the night that annoyed me, with lots of up and down, but I think I was just getting tired by then and slightly emotional thinking about the time we were closing in on. Around here we were joined by Lynda, who stayed with us to the end of the race. She was targeting 20 hours and ran with us until we reached the school near the finish line.
Scott seemed to get faster and faster, more excited with each km. He never complained, or hated anything. He said AT LEAST once each km "How much fun is this?" and "I love this" or "When's the next one?" His enthusiasm was boundless and very infectious.

We crossed the line, arm in arm, toe to toe, in 17.50. Elated, tired and wondering if we should have pushed a bit harder! What a day. Finished before midnight, with a 5hr 7 min PB. I wanted the whole world to know how good I felt.


My brother Scott:
I'm so proud of him. He's come from a place so far removed from the discipline of ultra running. I know he won't mind me saying that even a few years ago, he was travelling on a downhill path to nowhere. He is now a strong, determined man who has set himself firmly in the right direction. To be out there with him, as he achieved something he never thought possible, was a defining moment for me. Actually he smashed it, with plenty left in the tank. So we are going to do the GOW 100k together in 3 weeks. Love ya bro x

The North Face 100k 2009 Edition

I headed up on Friday 11th May. My plane left at 6.30am and I was already nervous. I had so much gear and as always, too much food.

Arriving at Sydney on time, and stepping onto a train, I realised I was far too early to meet Craig who was going to drive me up to the Blue Mountains, so I hung around the train station ..... eating. A theme for the weekend really :) Eating that is, not train stations.

Last year I talked Craig into running, and he must have liked it, since he was back this year to run again. He is much faster than me, so I would be on my own this time, no running partner. We did the usual drop bag 'comparison' and the usual 'oh no... i forgot that!' along with a bit of 'crap, 100k is a long way'.

Everything packed and we headed up to the Katoomba. Arriving at the Leura Gardens resort where a few of us were to stay, by early afternoon. Checking in was the first adventure. This 'resort' has been in press a fair bit lately, for alleged poor service and inferior room standards. Although exaggerated, the reports were right! Eventually, and with much difficulty we got a couple of rooms for the 4 of us. Two more friends (one runner and Craig's crew) arrived shortly after.

A short trip to the Fairmont and time to check in. By this stage the wind was blowing a gale and I was beginning to worry about the rain and cold. Last year I ended up nearly freezing and didn't want to do that again. Those thoughts were put away with the long rego queues and even longer gear check queues. All was in order and so with a tshirt, hat, timing chip, and bib; dinner seemed the next logical step.

I had the pleasure of dining with Justin (osmo on Coolrunning) and Sonia (Fred) and her husband John. Fabulous vegetarian thai meal and a nice glass of wine..... which could easily have become 3 or 4 in Sonias company :) Thanks guys, it was a wonderful evening out.

I have never learned the art of packing a drop bag and then leaving it ALONE. At 10pm, I was repacking what I'd already done twice, worrying about what I had put in each one, with the wind becoming increasingly strong outside. Vic, who was staying with us, is such a calm, reassuring person. I must drive him nuts. He quietly packs his gear, never fussing or worrying, while I jump around changing my mind 100 times a minute. Maybe when I've done as many ultras as him, I'll get that calm badge too.

This time was to be different though, I was running alone and I had no crew. Sonia and John had offered to help me out, but that was only to be if Justin was finished and they could race back to see me. All these thoughts rushed through my head as I went to sleep. Along with the usual thoughts of wondering why I was here, if I was up to the challenge, how my legs would hold up, etc.

A few hours sleep and I awoke to howling wind. More gear changes, breakfast and out to the start line. Bags dropped, pre race announcements done and we were off. I start at the back and finish at the back. I quickly saw a good friend Nick, who also wears Five Fingers. I felt a huge wave of relief to not be the only one this time. Nick told me as we plodded along together that he was injured and would possibly not make the whole distance. We ran together for a few kms before he took off.

From this point until about 70k I was on my own. Although people passed me (and even on rare occasions, I passed others) I was alone. I liked it as first, enjoying the scenery and thinking through my run. The section out to the CP1 was as I remember it, so the constant up and down was not a shock, and the stairs seemed easier this time. I had a drink and toilet stop at CP1 and kept on moving along the ridge. The wind up here was so strong it made moving forward difficult at times.

The next milestone was Tarros Ladders. A long queue (37 minutes for me from stopping to reaching the bottom) saw me get very very cold. I hit a flat spot mentally after this, but just kept on plodding forward. Around this point my left leg came good. I had come into the run with a very tight hammy/calf/hip. Not sure why, but it hurt at lot up to here, then strangely got better.

The trip to CP2 was uneventful, with a call from my mum, who worries about me when I do these things.... it's all good mum. Quickly in and out of here, and then to the Iron Pot Mt and Ridge. I love this bit, the views and the climb and the untracked route. It's so pretty.

I was hoping to get to CP3 before dark, but didn't quite make it. I was a bit disappointed by this, and must have shown it on my face, with a couple of SES folks asking if I was ok. Some fried rice at CP3, a headlamp, extra tights and I was off. I love the nights on trails, headlamp on, listening to the bush sounds.

I had a magic run up to Nellies Glen and even the steps up this year seemed so much easier. I came across some SES guys going down Nellies and they called out to me "are you a hypothermic exhuasted runner?" To which I replied, "No, but I am a grumpy tired mother". We talked for a bit, but I had not come across the person they were after, so I plodded on.

About this time I contacted Sonia, who it turned out was near CP4, so my spirit was bouyed by the thought that I would see a familiar face. The oval was almost being blown away, so the North Face guys let us use their tent to sit in to eat and change. Sonia and John had bought me some pasta YUMMMMM and I was sorely tempted to join John in a beer or 3. Sonia helped me sort out a few extra layers and went way beyond the call of duty helping me warm up my feet WITH HER HANDS. You're a gem Fred!!

To stay here and chat would have been heaven, but onwards and upwards.. or down those steps actually. 900 odd steps to the bottom I've been told but chose not to count them tonight. It was here that something strange happened. I suddenly became overwhelmed with tiredness. It hit me like a wall and I could not stop it. My eyes kept closing and I yawned constantly. Struggled down the bottom and reached the trail. Sitting down on the trail, I put my head on my knees and dozed off. Only for a minute or two (I think) but I tried to get up and stumbled a few feet forward, wondering how I would finish the last 30k. I know this section well, and know that there is no phone coverage for a long time. Being near the back of the pack, I had no idea if anyone was behind me, and if I got into trouble, how long I'd be alone. In hindsight, I think that I was just sick of my own company and my brain was trying to shut me down!

I walked down the track, up the track, all the time trying to wake myself up. I finally decided to go back to CP4 and pull out. I felt unsure enough that failure seemed better than damage or disaster. After about 100m of feeling depressed about my decision, I came across my rescuers :)

2 cheery young guys, both with walking poles came toward me, asking if I was ok. I said no, and that I was on my way out. They wisely suggested that climbing back UP the 900 steps was a totally daft idea and that I should stick with them,at least to the next check point.

I had a drink, some sugar, and started to follow them. These two guys (Mark and William) saved my run. They joked, laughed, sang, told stories and generally enjoyed their way through the next 20 odd km. Without them I would've been a certain DNF.

We went quickly down to the valley floor, crossing the rivers and then climbing back up Kedumba. My brain was playing tricks on me, seeing all kinds of silly nonsense, which is strangely enjoyable. I was very cold by the time I reached CP5 and was overwhelmed to see Craig and Jez who had come out to help me. Craig had finished in a fabulous time of 19.15 and showed me the bronze buckle he'd earned. Jez helped me get a few extra layers on, and again helped me sort out some sox and dry VFF's.

Only 11k to go. How hard can that be? A bit of flat, a small dip, a bridge and then home. Or so said the CP volunteer. A bit of flat... yes. And the sun came up. Renewed spirit and light to see by is sensational. The ensuing STEPS down down down to the valley again were not. At first I was happy again, in my element on some nice trail, but the enthusiasm ran out so fast. We reached Lillian's Bridge and cursed whoever thought that this was a good idea in the last 5k of this run. But at least the end was in sight. Literally, just at the top of that massive hill, up there.... oh Dear God, how will we get up there??

Slowly is the answer. After 26 hours and 4 mins, I finally crossed the finish line. I even managed a jog for the last 100m. 6 hours after I wanted, but still finished. I thanked and hugged the 2 guys who had dragged me the last 30km when I was done for. Second last over the line, but with so many people who had pulled out, I placed 229 out of 333 starters. Also, I will lay claim to still being the only person to have completed this course in Vibram Five Fingers. Twice now.

Tim and Andy and Kathy said a quick hello/goodbye, it was so nice to see some friends at that point. Tim later told me I looked totally wrecked at the end. I went inside and chatted to Paul E and a few others before Vic took me back to the hotel to have a shower.

The awards ceremony was excellent, with Alina in fine form as always. This year Dean Karnazes had come out from the US to run and was signing books for anyone who wanted.

Several years ago, I read his book when I first started running and was inspired to try longer distances. So it was a huge buzz for me to meet him and tell him that. He was gracious and spoke to me as if he was happy to meet me, not the other way around!

So, my goals are achieved. I turn 40 next Saturday, and decided that I wanted to be as fit, strong and healthy as possible for this milestone, and that I wanted to run 100k as close to my birthday as I could. 100k, mostly on my own, in Vibram Five Fingers, on a beautiful trail in my home country. And to meet the person who helped inspire that desire in me.... pretty damn good.

Can't wait for next year.....

Canberra Marathon 2009 Australian Masters Championship

I have just noticed that I never added anything to my blog about the Canberra 09 Marathon.

I must be insane! Perhaps this is already well documented... so maybe I was just forgetful.

The marathon itself was nothing to write home about really, but the after party was :)

I drove to Canberra on Saturday morning, with my girls, who were going to join the CoolRunning Cheer Squad the next day. We lunched with friends, and stayed in a cute little backpackers room near the start line. The expo was fun, and I copped a bit of ribbing for my unusal 'Personal Drinks' which are allowed in this race. I've been using coconut water as my sports drink, and the only way I can buy it is in 300ml tetra packs. So for each drink, I had a small plastic bag of lollies to go with it. A bit of sticky tape... and voila! Instant refreshment by me .... they looked ridiculous if I do say so myself.

Up early and off to the start, feeling relaxed but nervous (how do I manage those 2 things at once?) Lined up and off we went. The weather was kinder this year, and the km rolled by, volunteers wonderful as usual, other runners working hard, my girls cheering their lungs out.... a normal days running.

The end was as typical. Me, a couple of hardy spectators, and a finish line. This year I even got a medal, which was nice.

I showered and went along to the after party and prize giving. All the first/second and third prizes had been done at the race, this was for the extra categories. Such as the Masters runners. I found out last year that this marathon was the Australian Masters Championship. Like as in.... AUSTRALIAN championships!

So I entered, in the 35-39 Female Age Group. I ran for Masters Victoria, and much to my extreme delight I was third! The stunned silence from my friends when they announced my name (and thankfully NOT my finishing time) was priceless.

I know that this medal came to me because 3 people were entered in this age group BUT...

I bothered to enter, I trained, I ran, I finished, and I placed 3rd.

The medal still makes me smile. Not too many people I know have Australian Championship Athletics medals. I was not voted 'most likely to succeed at sport' in school. In fact, I was probably voted 'most likely to never even know what sport IS'!

Anything is possible my friends, with a bit of research, a bit of work, and sometimes being in the right place at the right time.

I came, I saw, I bombed out

Six Foot last year was such a highlight for me.

This year it was a low point.

I did more kms in training, I did more hills, I did everything right.

I was very nervous on the drive up. I've never had m whole family there at the finish line waiting for me. That did my head in. I was so worried about not finishing, I wonder if I produced a self fulfilling prophecy.

Or it could be that I stepped off the track to let a faster runner pass, and caught my foot on tree root. I went forward at such an awkward angle, feeling all the tendons and ligaments wrench.

No matter, keep on pushing, my girls are waiting for me at the Deviation and I want to show them I can do this run.

It was quickly apparent that it wasn't going to happen. The 7 hour pacer caught and passed me at Mini Mini. I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Action (the SWEEP) soon caught up to me too, and as we were going up the Pluvi he graciously asked for my timing chip to retire me from the race. Being a stubborn pain in the arse, I made him take it off me.

He took some time to give me some very wise words. Not all days work out. Sometimes bad stuff happens. You only lose if you give up. Come back stronger and faster next year.

I got on the 'sad truck' and it was indeed very sad. Lots of broken people, deflated, rejected and sorry for themselves. Driving back into Caves House was horrible. I felt I had let people down - my family, my friends, running buddies, even total strangers.

It's not like I was going to win. Just finish.

Next year.....

Stars

I was out last night at a friends birthday celebration. As tradition would dictate in this part of the world, it was spent at the local 'club' with copious of food and alcohol, and lots of sitting around chatting.

There is nothing wrong with eating, drinking and enjoying each others company. In fact it's what keeps us going.. friends, family and good times.

I enjoyed myself, but chose not to overindulge. People worry when you don't keep on drinking or eating, but stop after a small amount. "What's wrong, are you unwell?" "Aren't you having a good time?" Not at all, I just have other goals in mind.

We were driven home by the 'free booze bus'. It was only a short trip, I've run much further at night, on many occasions.

I looked outside at the stars, and marvelled at how beautiful they were. The bushland was still and peaceful looking, compared to the noisy chatter inside the bus. The night sky was inviting.

I found myself wishing I was outside running along a trail, not couped up in a bus. I realised that every time I see the stars, the bush, a trail, it speaks to me of adventure and challenge. Excitement about where I was going to run next week was already building up inside me.

No matter my ability or place in life, this is the thing that sparks passion inside me. To be out in nature, experiencing everything it has to offer. With like minded people, pushing ourselves to the limit.

This is living.

Some Days...

Today I went out for a 20k run. I didn't get very far. After about 3k I was tired.

In fact so tired, it felt like I was in a constant uphill battle. Sadly it mostly a flat course.

I tried to take my mind off the sluggishness by wondering exactly how I'd describe how I felt. 'Running through custard' came to mind. The thought amused me for a while, about 2 minutes actually, then it was just hard again.

I managed to push through about 10k before falling back through my front door.

An old song popped into my head while I was out there, so I changed the lyrics a bit...

"Some days are diamonds, some days are like running through custard"

Barefoot Trails

13km today. 10k on trails, dirt, rocks, gravel and sticks.

Then I did 3k on the roads to see how I felt.

My feet hurt a bit.

It was both stupid and fun.

I might do that again soon :)

THIS is why I run

"My feet felt light and skimmed over the ground. The earth moved under me.

Different surfaces, different sensations. Long dew filled grass, harshgravel, smooth footpath, dry grass, hot road.

Like a book of braille,reading the earth's stories. Feeling its joy, feeling its pain.

Back home my feet are black from the journey.

Dirty happy black feet.

I feel connected with the ground underneath me."

Tim Turner 2009
A barefoot runner

Not willing to give up

I was daydreaming at the end of a long run today, as I often do, and came across something that stood out to me.

A tree.

It had been cut down, obviously it got in the way, or was not the 'right' type of tree for that area, or any other number of reasons.

But despite this, and despite the horribly dry and dusty surrounds, it has sprouted.

Not just a couple of little green leaves, but whole branches, growing strong out of a cut off trunk.

I love seeing examples of never giving up. It reminds me to keep running.

Huons Hill Wodonga

I don't know who Huon was, but they named a big hill after him/her in Wodonga. I look at it every time I step out my front door, and I've been wanting to run up it since we moved here.

I mentioned this yesterday and Alana (my 12 year old) suggested we 'go tomorrow'. Ok, so now I couldn't back out.

'It does look quite a long way Alana, are you sure you want to go?' (Mum wants to sleep in)

'It will probably be very hot, you'd have to carry a camelbak' (Mum is worried she'll show her up)

'There might be snakes' (Mum is genuinely worried about snakes)



So when I woke her at 5.30, she jumped up and got ready.

We parked on the dirt road, not really knowing exactly how far it would be, and ran 3k before hitting the hill. Not realising there was a TRAIL up the hill, we went on the road. This was another 4k to the top and it was rather steep.



A quick rest and a couple of photos at the top, when Alana spotted a gate in the fenceline. Investigation showed it was a trail, so we decided to follow it wherever it went. Turns out it was to the same place we started up hill... only 2k shorter and much more interesting to run on.

We also found this same trail went down to the river we had been swimming at... we'll follow that another day. Continued on our way back to the car, but by this stage it was really hot, so we took it easy.

Very proud of my girl, who did 12k all up today, and never once complained about it being too far, or too hot, or too steep. She is great company on a run :)

Top of the World (Almost)

In the past I've stated that 'this run' or 'that run' is the hardest I've ever encountered. I have a new contender....

Bogong to Hotham.

For me it wasn't even all the way to Hotham, I only made it to 35k, finishing at Langsfords Gap. The full distance is 64k. My hat is off the guys and girls who finished the whole thing.

This race is in my back yard (at least this year's back yard) so I sent off an entry, thinking I'd probably not even be accepted to enter.

I found out a week before the race that I had indeed scored a spot, thankfully my brother had me out running trails every other day over December.

I drove down the evening before to register and attend the briefing.

"Look out for snakes, fill up with water at this stream, if you get lost, this is the number to call..." Freaking out mildly by this stage.

I caught up with some friends from Sydney, who all further helped to fuel my fears by telling me just how hard this run really is. Thanks guys xx

After everyone had gone to their respective motels/tents, I sat on the balcony of the pub, under the shadow of the second highest peak in Australia, contemplating what the hell I was doing here. It got me thinking.

I wondered if I came to these races simply as a social outlet. But I arrive at the last minute, am on my own within 200m of the race starting, am usually alone for the full distance, finish when most others have long since been and gone, and then drive home almost immediately after. No, I really love running trails.

I may not be very good at it, certainly I'm the slowest out there, but I revel in the challenge. It's so far removed from my everyday life of kids and housework. To be alone in the Australian wilderness, map in hand, winding my way through trails.... seeing the wildlife, chatting to other bushwalkers as we pass, there is nothing better.

Even the hard times, when it all seems folly. When I know I won't make a cut, when I feel like a fraud for even turning up, knowing the winner has finished and I'm only half way there. These times are still memorable. It's a cliche, but the hard times make you stronger.

Back to the race. I picked Tim up at 4.30 on the way to the start line and I think I babbled incessantly for the 10min drive, I was so nervous. Rain, damn rain... it's going to be cold. Or steamy when the sun rises... who can tell?

We lined up in the dark, on a stretch of dirt trail, waiting the starters order to 'go'. A few commented on my choice of footwear, questioning my sanity and sense. It's not my feet I'm worried about frankly!

The runners take off and I quickly fall into last place. I have never seen the course, so pick my way along in the dark, making sure I don't take a wrong turn. By the time I start up Staircase Spur, the light is filtering through the trees. I have never seen the elevation profile for this run, so have no idea what is ahead. In hindsite this is a good thing.

I know now. 1400m of constant climbing up the side of a mountain. Everyone who started at either 5.30 or 6.15am passed me somewhere on the climb to the top. It rained all the way and the top of the mountain was clouded in. It was cold, very cold, and I was tired already. Only 9km in and I'm ready to quit. I seriously considered turning around at this point, my thinking being that I didn't want people waiting for ages for me to finish. What do I do? Push on and possibly make a long day even longer for those assisting, or turn around and head back, to face the realisation that I didn't give it a good shot.

The decision was to go to Cleve Cole Hut, not far way and reassess. By the time I reached here I was in good spirits and back to jogging again. A quick chat about my 'feet' with the checkpoint folk, some bikkies and off down the path.

I loved the downhill section to Big River. The tough trail, bush and overgrown areas all bring back childhood memories. Reaching the river, I walked through, my feet glad of the cold water.

It had become apparent by this stage that my KSO's (Keep Stuff Out) had become LSI's (Let Stuff In). The stitching was undone and rocks were lodging themselves in the cracks. No matter, it takes my mind off the pain in my quads.

At the river I looked up, dismayed at the seemingly endless mountain rising up before me. All my new found bravado was gone. Back to trudging. Even slower than the first climb, as the heat of the sun was now burning my back. I made deals with myself here... just to the next bit of shade, then I can wait for the sweepers.

The sweepers never came, and I made it to the top and Ropers Hut site. I had some food and fluid here (coconut water... the best drink on earth) and immediately picked up. I resumed a slow jog as the course meandered across the plains, ski pole after ski pole passing by me.

I came across a group of walkers who formed a guard of honour for me, a nice bit of light relief after a long day. I chatted briefly with them before heading off toward the aquaduct.

I often become emotional near the end of a long run, relieved that I have made it and thankful that I have been given the opportunity to participate. Today was no exception.

There was a small handful of people who stood to give me a cheer and applause as I crossed the 'line'. While their thoughtfulness meant the world to me, I would have done it if there was no one there to see me. This truly is spectacular country, and we are blessed to be able to share it.

My goal for the day was to stay in front of the sweepers for as long as possible. They finished 15 minutes behind me :) Next year I'd like to get closer to the cut off. I don't think I could finish the full distance, but you never know.

Purple

WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE

With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired

And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

And run my stick along the public railings

And make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

And pick the flowers in other people's gardens

And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

And eat three pounds of sausages at a go

Or only bread and pickle for a week

And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

And pay our rent and not swear in the street

And set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

Taken from the book

When I Am An Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple

Edited by Sandra Martz

Fats Festive Fat Ass 08

There is nothing quite like the enthusiasm of a new runner.

I told Scott that there was Fat Ass run on while I was in Brisbane. 58k up and down Mt Nebo. He was keen. I told him perhaps we should not do QUITE the full 58k, since I'm about as fit as wounded asthmatic hippo.

We settled on doing 21k, much further than I thought sensible, given his first time at either this distance or this type of terrain.

The day before, I introduced Scott to the joy of buying gear as we hunted down a camelback. It should be explained that Scott doesn't wear shoes to run, either on road or trails. So he zip tied his shoes to back of the camelback, 'just in case'.

I imagine we looked the most riduculous pair at the start. Me in Five Fingers and Scott barefoot. I caught up with some wonderful friends at the start, including Lorna, who was up from Sydney.

We started off slowly, knowing that the first half would be basically a climb, and the return trip mostly downhill. The weather was cool and drizzly and the scenery gorgeous. We chatted as we ran, counting off the km until we reached 11k, Scotts longest run thus far.

I had forgotten how exciting it is to reach new territory in a run. Each km after that he got more excited, realising by the time we returned he would have finished a half marathon distance.

It took us slightly over 3 hours to get back to car, Scott took off for a sprint for the last 500m.

Boundless optimism and new found wonder rubs off. I'm ready for 2009 and some new goals.

Thanks mate :)

Running with Scott

Back in May this year, I did TNF 100k. My brother and his wife came to look after my kids while I ran. Scott (my brother) wanted to know everything about the race. I left him a map, which he followed every step of my run, texting me encouragement and jokes along the way.

He was so excited by the whole thing, that he started running. Just a couple of km every other day, telling me he'd not do more than 4k/day at most, ever.

I recall a phone call from him recently, telling me he'd finished a 10k run, he was so excited!! Hooked, and loving it :) He asked whether he could pace/crew me at a race someday. I suggested Glasshouse in September 09.

Arrviving in Brisbane on 19 December for a holiday with my family, I was greeted by Scott with the question "When are we going running?"

So the next day we set out early (4am) to run up on Tamborine Mountain, the oldest national park in Queensland. It was spectacular. Old rainforest, waterfalls, bush turkeys, wallabies, wombats, and more than a few leeches! Scott was amazed to hear that this was the type of running some prefer. He decided right then trail running was what he'd been looking for.

We covered about 6k that morning, but it wasn't enough. Scott found another trail and we did another 3k before heading home. We went on to explore other parts of Brisbane... Mt Cootha, Mt Cotton, Daisy Hill Forest, Mt Nebo and more sections of Tamborine.

By the end of my trip, Scott had decided he would like to do the GlassHouse 50k in May and is now training his butt off. He shares my passion for barefoot running, and we spent some quality time comparing feet!!

Can't wait to do a 100k run with him soon......