Well its been a long while since I blogged.
My motivation has been at an all time low.
After The North Face 100 in May, I stopped running. Totally. I stepped out for a 5k run at the Canberra Bush Capital, and walked City 2 Surf in August (my 8th in a row) with a friend.
I began working again, at first just a couple of days a week, but it has quickly become a 5-6day a week job and I am working physcially hard, which has been good for my body and soul.
I have begun running again this week. Although only 3 times... 5k, 4.5k and 5k... it felt so good!
My goals for 2011 have already been set and after a long bout of sitting, I'm off again.
Next year I would like to break 20hours at TNF to finally get a buckle and the big goal...
The Kokoda Track Race in August. In Papua New Guinea, the place of my childhood. A long held dream of mine to complete this mammoth track. The race has not been run for a few years now, due to problems with logistics etc. But next year, its back!
96k, mud, heat, 6000m of elevation gain, mud, dozens of raging rivers to cross, mud, 39 hours to finish, climbing hand over hand up huge hills... did I mention mud??
I can't wait! My 2 younger brothers are coming with me to run the race, and my parents are going to walk it, starting about 5 days before us to meet us at the end. From Owers Corner to Popondetta, across the Owen Stanley Range, this race is not your standard ultra, so I'm pretty excited.
I spent the first 12 years of my life in PNG, and I have never yet returned. I still speak the local lingo and can't wait to get back there and take in the sights, sounds and smells of my childhood.
Everyone I talk to tells me it's ridiculous to even try. I don't do well running in heat (but I do ok walking strongly), I'm slow (but I'm consistent and persistent), and only a couple of other non PNG national women have ever tried it, one of them taking abouy 55hours to finish (well I intend to make it 3, and maybe the quickest to date)
For me I see it as a coming together of my worlds... my childhood, my family, and my love of running trails.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Closer to the Buckle
Well it was 2 weeks ago I was lying in a bunk bed in Leura, sleeplessly waiting for the alarm to go off. I never sleep well the night before a big race. Particularly if I'm really hoping for a good result. Which is very counterproductive, but that's another story.
It's North Face 100 time! The third running of this race, and my third start. I'm not sure why I love this race so much... it could be the stunning scenery, the fact that to get to the end is so hard, the friends, the tonnes of gear... who knows, but I love it.
5am, and I figured 'Bugger it, everyone can get up now'. So I woke up my 3 room mates with my muttering and shuffling around with food and gear. Bart, from my old running club in Sydney, who will run another blinder today. Brett, my neighbour from Wodonga, who last year watched me run a few 100ker's and thought he'd like to have a go. And Scott. My little bro, who is graciously running with me again today/tonight/tomorrow. The brother and sister Freaky Footwear Act :)
Breakfast, joking, repacking, water, more breakfast, and we're set. All formalities out of the way, we stand on the start line, not at all cold. I took off my thermal and jacket since it was about 6 degrees. Much warmer than Canberra. Scott was cold... Queensland boy :)
We set off, with Sonia and Scott just in front of me. Last year Sonia met me at Check Point4 with some pasta and help to warm me up. This year she's tackling the 54k. She is seriously the best dressed runner out there :) Looking gorgeous! Anyhow after a few km on the road, we headed into the first bush section. There was a huge bottleneck here, and we waited in line for abut 15-20 minutes to get moving. Which just became a slow conga line down to the water. I love the downhill technical sections, but we just walked down.
Once it opened out a bit, we got moving. The first section went by quickly, and the stairs up to Check Point 1 were as brutal as I remember. Scott talked me up the steps, waiting patiently for me when I needed to rest. At the top I grabbed some food, and kept moving. Up the steep concrete path.... how did I forget this bit??? Yuk!
Soon the path opened up to some gorgeous firetrail, with spectacular views and sunny skies. Down to Tarros Ladders which had NO wait at all this year. I am dead scared of the ladders, but scurry down them each time, knowing it will be over in only a couple of minutes.
There are so many parts to this race that I enjoy. The steep downhill where your legs are screaming for rest, the steep uphills and steps where your lungs are screaming to burst... the little creek crossings.... but my favourite bit is Iron Pot Ridge. It's on private land so no one can train here. In fact, you can't go out here except in this race. There is no trail. You have to climb a horribly steep hill and pick your way through nasty sharp rocky outcrops, on hands and knees if you're a chicken like me. Then some scrubby bush to the turn around and one of the most amazing views I've ever seen. The whole valley laid out before you... I long for this point in the race every time. And so quickly it's gone.
Check Point 2 was going quickly, and we moved on, Scott calling out times and paces to me to keep me going. I found this really helpful. He judged the pace needed to keep at about 20 hour time, and I just had to follow. He had started to cramp at only 20k, so was hurting in his own run, and here he is, keeping me going.
CP3 is the first for crew, so we got some hot food and a change of gear, headlamps and snacks to head off with. Some nice flat running for a while before heading up Nellies Glen. Brett caught us here and overtook us. I struggle up steps, I just hate them. I don't mind a hill, but not steps. Not a good race if you hate steps... Once at the top, we trotted off again, though I was starting to feel tired by now. We pulled into the checkpoint, got some hot food again, and headed off with Brett into the night.
This is the part of the race I usually find quite enjoyable. Down the Giant Staircase and then 10k of mostly downhill running. This time I was tired. Just weary. I wanted to rest. But we kept on moving and hit the 3 water crossings before the long uphill of Kedumba. Here is was that I wished I had rememberd to put No-Doze in my pack. I just wanted to sleep. My vision was being partially blocked out, so I felt like was looking through binoculars. My brain convinced me that it would be a good idea to stop, get all my gear out, put it on, wrap myself in the space blanket and have a little rest. Just for half an hour or so... Really you'll feel better if you do. So I shared this cunning plan with Scott, who sensibly yelled 'NO! That's crazy! Keep moving'.
Half way up we encountered the SES guys, and I begged for caffiene, but to no avail. Their tent looked inviting and warm and my brain again told me to stop and have a rest. But no, push on. This was the lowest point for me. I desperately wanted to sleep so told Scott I wanted to quit at the next check point. He told me in no uncertain terms that there was NO way I was quitting. He did not come all this way to DNF. There would running, walking, and crawling, if required, but no DNF. I warmed to this idea, particularly after CP5 and some food. And several No Doze.
Leaving here with only 11k to go you can be lulled into believing that it all be over soon. Folly! Utter folly! The road is easy to move on and move we did. Faster and faster... till we going about 7km/hour at times :) But mostly about 6k/hour ;) The sandy tracks give way to rough rocky single file technical trail. My favourite kind. We moved even faster, overtaking many people during this section. At one stage we picked up Ray (eagle from CoolRunning) and he tacked on with us. I was very feeling very emotional at this point, with my long suffering brother in front, and a dear friend (and someone I ran with in my first ultra) behind me. Ray matched my steps, running when I ran, walking when I did. What a great place to be!
Down the steps into the valley and Lillians Bridge. Why did Lillian put her silly bridge all the way down here?? I'll never know, but at least after last year I knew we had 2km to go to the finish. By now the extra pace I'd put on meant I was feeling quite sick, and every time I stopped to catch my breath, I felt I would be ill. So I stopped stopping. Each step hurt, but no stopping. No talking, just moving.
We came out onto the grass and launched into my speech about how much I valued Scott's company, about how much he meant to me and how grateful I was to him for staying with me. And of course how much I love him.... We managed a slow trot here, and out of the dark came Brett, who had waited for us to arrive so we could all cross the finish together. How blessed I am!
22.22.18 And a very nice PB for me. We didn't make 20 hours, so for the third year in a row I go home without a buckle. But I am proud of what I did. The last section tested me beyond my normal level of running, and I kept going. I moved faster than the previous 2 sections, and managed to hold it all together to the end. We sat around eating and drinking, wrapped in blankets, trading stories of the trail.
I love this sport. This stupid, crazy, maddening, obsessive, ridiculous excuse for a hobby. Anything would be easier. But this is where I find joy. The friends, the hills, the tiredness, the pain, the tears, the laughter.
It sounds so cliched, but I come alive here.
It's North Face 100 time! The third running of this race, and my third start. I'm not sure why I love this race so much... it could be the stunning scenery, the fact that to get to the end is so hard, the friends, the tonnes of gear... who knows, but I love it.
5am, and I figured 'Bugger it, everyone can get up now'. So I woke up my 3 room mates with my muttering and shuffling around with food and gear. Bart, from my old running club in Sydney, who will run another blinder today. Brett, my neighbour from Wodonga, who last year watched me run a few 100ker's and thought he'd like to have a go. And Scott. My little bro, who is graciously running with me again today/tonight/tomorrow. The brother and sister Freaky Footwear Act :)
Breakfast, joking, repacking, water, more breakfast, and we're set. All formalities out of the way, we stand on the start line, not at all cold. I took off my thermal and jacket since it was about 6 degrees. Much warmer than Canberra. Scott was cold... Queensland boy :)
We set off, with Sonia and Scott just in front of me. Last year Sonia met me at Check Point4 with some pasta and help to warm me up. This year she's tackling the 54k. She is seriously the best dressed runner out there :) Looking gorgeous! Anyhow after a few km on the road, we headed into the first bush section. There was a huge bottleneck here, and we waited in line for abut 15-20 minutes to get moving. Which just became a slow conga line down to the water. I love the downhill technical sections, but we just walked down.
Once it opened out a bit, we got moving. The first section went by quickly, and the stairs up to Check Point 1 were as brutal as I remember. Scott talked me up the steps, waiting patiently for me when I needed to rest. At the top I grabbed some food, and kept moving. Up the steep concrete path.... how did I forget this bit??? Yuk!
Soon the path opened up to some gorgeous firetrail, with spectacular views and sunny skies. Down to Tarros Ladders which had NO wait at all this year. I am dead scared of the ladders, but scurry down them each time, knowing it will be over in only a couple of minutes.
There are so many parts to this race that I enjoy. The steep downhill where your legs are screaming for rest, the steep uphills and steps where your lungs are screaming to burst... the little creek crossings.... but my favourite bit is Iron Pot Ridge. It's on private land so no one can train here. In fact, you can't go out here except in this race. There is no trail. You have to climb a horribly steep hill and pick your way through nasty sharp rocky outcrops, on hands and knees if you're a chicken like me. Then some scrubby bush to the turn around and one of the most amazing views I've ever seen. The whole valley laid out before you... I long for this point in the race every time. And so quickly it's gone.
Check Point 2 was going quickly, and we moved on, Scott calling out times and paces to me to keep me going. I found this really helpful. He judged the pace needed to keep at about 20 hour time, and I just had to follow. He had started to cramp at only 20k, so was hurting in his own run, and here he is, keeping me going.
CP3 is the first for crew, so we got some hot food and a change of gear, headlamps and snacks to head off with. Some nice flat running for a while before heading up Nellies Glen. Brett caught us here and overtook us. I struggle up steps, I just hate them. I don't mind a hill, but not steps. Not a good race if you hate steps... Once at the top, we trotted off again, though I was starting to feel tired by now. We pulled into the checkpoint, got some hot food again, and headed off with Brett into the night.
This is the part of the race I usually find quite enjoyable. Down the Giant Staircase and then 10k of mostly downhill running. This time I was tired. Just weary. I wanted to rest. But we kept on moving and hit the 3 water crossings before the long uphill of Kedumba. Here is was that I wished I had rememberd to put No-Doze in my pack. I just wanted to sleep. My vision was being partially blocked out, so I felt like was looking through binoculars. My brain convinced me that it would be a good idea to stop, get all my gear out, put it on, wrap myself in the space blanket and have a little rest. Just for half an hour or so... Really you'll feel better if you do. So I shared this cunning plan with Scott, who sensibly yelled 'NO! That's crazy! Keep moving'.
Half way up we encountered the SES guys, and I begged for caffiene, but to no avail. Their tent looked inviting and warm and my brain again told me to stop and have a rest. But no, push on. This was the lowest point for me. I desperately wanted to sleep so told Scott I wanted to quit at the next check point. He told me in no uncertain terms that there was NO way I was quitting. He did not come all this way to DNF. There would running, walking, and crawling, if required, but no DNF. I warmed to this idea, particularly after CP5 and some food. And several No Doze.
Leaving here with only 11k to go you can be lulled into believing that it all be over soon. Folly! Utter folly! The road is easy to move on and move we did. Faster and faster... till we going about 7km/hour at times :) But mostly about 6k/hour ;) The sandy tracks give way to rough rocky single file technical trail. My favourite kind. We moved even faster, overtaking many people during this section. At one stage we picked up Ray (eagle from CoolRunning) and he tacked on with us. I was very feeling very emotional at this point, with my long suffering brother in front, and a dear friend (and someone I ran with in my first ultra) behind me. Ray matched my steps, running when I ran, walking when I did. What a great place to be!
Down the steps into the valley and Lillians Bridge. Why did Lillian put her silly bridge all the way down here?? I'll never know, but at least after last year I knew we had 2km to go to the finish. By now the extra pace I'd put on meant I was feeling quite sick, and every time I stopped to catch my breath, I felt I would be ill. So I stopped stopping. Each step hurt, but no stopping. No talking, just moving.
We came out onto the grass and launched into my speech about how much I valued Scott's company, about how much he meant to me and how grateful I was to him for staying with me. And of course how much I love him.... We managed a slow trot here, and out of the dark came Brett, who had waited for us to arrive so we could all cross the finish together. How blessed I am!
22.22.18 And a very nice PB for me. We didn't make 20 hours, so for the third year in a row I go home without a buckle. But I am proud of what I did. The last section tested me beyond my normal level of running, and I kept going. I moved faster than the previous 2 sections, and managed to hold it all together to the end. We sat around eating and drinking, wrapped in blankets, trading stories of the trail.
I love this sport. This stupid, crazy, maddening, obsessive, ridiculous excuse for a hobby. Anything would be easier. But this is where I find joy. The friends, the hills, the tiredness, the pain, the tears, the laughter.
It sounds so cliched, but I come alive here.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Four More Sleeps!
I have never been this nervous. I have no idea why. My stomach is churning, I can't concentrate, I just want it to be Saturday. Why do I like to run 100k races??
Then I'll be wishing it was last week, as the mountains try to destroy my legs and the cold night sets in.
It will be fun. It will be painful. It will be memorable.
It will be my third Blue Mountains North Face 100k in a row :)
Then I'll be wishing it was last week, as the mountains try to destroy my legs and the cold night sets in.
It will be fun. It will be painful. It will be memorable.
It will be my third Blue Mountains North Face 100k in a row :)
Monday, April 26, 2010
My Mind.... My Nemesis
I have a problem when I run. It's my head. Well my mind, thoughts and thinking processes to be exact. They sabotage me. When I train, I'm strong and brilliant. I can run for ages, without a care, (or shoes), I can tackle anything. I visualize myself finishing exciting runs, feeling pleased with myself and making my family and friends proud of me.
Then it comes to the event. Niggling doubts creep in at the start line. 'I haven't trained enough... what if I'm last?... Or worse, don't finish?... I don't really deserve to be here... I'm not fast enough, strong enough, disciplined enough, I'm only a girl, I'm too old, I don't even have proper shoes'
I push them all aside and smile, joke and laugh with everyone else. What an adventure we're all going on here, off to the known and unknown in ourselves and surrounding countryside. I look around me and see people who look like me, bright and enthusiastic, sure of themselves and their abilities.
Truly I have none of that. Within the first 2-3km I'm already fighting my own head. I wasn't raised to have self doubt like this. My parents taught me that I could do ANYTHING I wanted. We are not a 'sit back and take it' kind of family. We go out and get it, whatever 'it' is. One difference remains though, and that is this.
As a small child, and even not so small a child, I was no good at sport. I mean hopeless, uncoordinated, slow, clumsy and illshaped for any type of sport. And those few negative comments from unthinking people grew into a general air of 'Oh well, you can't be good at everything' sense about me. I was a straight A's student, so who could really expect me to be good at sport too? Truthfully, I would love to have been at least average at one sport. But I listened to the wise older voices telling me not to bother.
Not until I had my fourth child, and was craving some kind of alone time, did I venture into the world of physical activity. The gym, on advice of my brother, who cared for my kids while I went to the gym when from time to time, was were I began. I started walking on the treadmill and then running. Eventually I went outside and ran in a real event. A whole 4km! I finished, and was elated. As if I had won. But then the negative voices spoke again. “you didn't win” “you were too slow” “you can't be good at sport” ......
I have run for several years now, with this nagging in my head. I SAY I run for myself, but I want others to be proud of me. I want to be proud of myself too. Six Foot Track 2010 has bought this all to a head. I have to find a way to silence the inner critic I have allowed to grow to gigantic proportions. So large, that a panic attack was the only way my head could stop my body from moving forward to another mediocre performance. Another DNF. Another failure.
Olympic material I'm not, but a half decent ultra marathon, recreational runner I can be. And as long as running stupidly long distances makes me happy, then that's what I intend to do. To be my best. Not someone else's best. And not a second grade version of own abilities, but MY best.
This journey has become about more than just the run, I'm running to discover me, whoever that is.
Then it comes to the event. Niggling doubts creep in at the start line. 'I haven't trained enough... what if I'm last?... Or worse, don't finish?... I don't really deserve to be here... I'm not fast enough, strong enough, disciplined enough, I'm only a girl, I'm too old, I don't even have proper shoes'
I push them all aside and smile, joke and laugh with everyone else. What an adventure we're all going on here, off to the known and unknown in ourselves and surrounding countryside. I look around me and see people who look like me, bright and enthusiastic, sure of themselves and their abilities.
Truly I have none of that. Within the first 2-3km I'm already fighting my own head. I wasn't raised to have self doubt like this. My parents taught me that I could do ANYTHING I wanted. We are not a 'sit back and take it' kind of family. We go out and get it, whatever 'it' is. One difference remains though, and that is this.
As a small child, and even not so small a child, I was no good at sport. I mean hopeless, uncoordinated, slow, clumsy and illshaped for any type of sport. And those few negative comments from unthinking people grew into a general air of 'Oh well, you can't be good at everything' sense about me. I was a straight A's student, so who could really expect me to be good at sport too? Truthfully, I would love to have been at least average at one sport. But I listened to the wise older voices telling me not to bother.
Not until I had my fourth child, and was craving some kind of alone time, did I venture into the world of physical activity. The gym, on advice of my brother, who cared for my kids while I went to the gym when from time to time, was were I began. I started walking on the treadmill and then running. Eventually I went outside and ran in a real event. A whole 4km! I finished, and was elated. As if I had won. But then the negative voices spoke again. “you didn't win” “you were too slow” “you can't be good at sport” ......
I have run for several years now, with this nagging in my head. I SAY I run for myself, but I want others to be proud of me. I want to be proud of myself too. Six Foot Track 2010 has bought this all to a head. I have to find a way to silence the inner critic I have allowed to grow to gigantic proportions. So large, that a panic attack was the only way my head could stop my body from moving forward to another mediocre performance. Another DNF. Another failure.
Olympic material I'm not, but a half decent ultra marathon, recreational runner I can be. And as long as running stupidly long distances makes me happy, then that's what I intend to do. To be my best. Not someone else's best. And not a second grade version of own abilities, but MY best.
This journey has become about more than just the run, I'm running to discover me, whoever that is.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Friends of Lindy 50k
Each year in April, Canberra has a spectacular running weekend festival. 5K, 10k, kids marathon, marathon and ultra. Each year.... until the year I move to Canberra. Then there is a political debate, general stuff up, and no event.
(Please note that there is now an alternative date for the marathon etc... 1/2 May. But for the purposes of this story, the original April event is no longer)
This is annoying to me, but devastating to others. Some have made travel plans, handed over money, booked tickets and planned family holidays around this. Someone suggested we run it anyway, as a Fat Ass run, as a protest, and as an alternative.
Though many different ideas are thrown around, in the end there is a small band of about 25 runners who commit to this. One of them is Lindy K. Lindy was once a formidable marathon runner. In times that make my head spin, she won races, competed at a high level, and generally loved her sport.
(Please note that there is now an alternative date for the marathon etc... 1/2 May. But for the purposes of this story, the original April event is no longer)
This is annoying to me, but devastating to others. Some have made travel plans, handed over money, booked tickets and planned family holidays around this. Someone suggested we run it anyway, as a Fat Ass run, as a protest, and as an alternative.
Though many different ideas are thrown around, in the end there is a small band of about 25 runners who commit to this. One of them is Lindy K. Lindy was once a formidable marathon runner. In times that make my head spin, she won races, competed at a high level, and generally loved her sport.
Lindy was struck with Parkinsons Disease during her running life, and this, along with her whole world, changed. If someone had a reason to be bitter about being robbed, it was she. But instead of becoming angry, she adjusted her focus, and now walks. A long way. And at a decent pace too.
Lindy had decided this was to be 'her' ulta goal. The 50k at Canberra, coinciding with World Parkinsons Day, would be a chance to raise money and awareness. Again, when the event collapsed around her, she moved her focus and the “Friends of Lindy 50k” was born.
Early in the predawn on 11th April, a few hardy (and cold) souls started off around the Lake in central Canberra. I sepnt a little time with Lindy and her sister Heather during the first part of the race, listening to their stories and gaining so much insight from them both.
After about 17k, I woke my sleeping girls from our parked car (my children have to keep strange hours in bizarre places to accomodate my obsessions), and we went across the lake to run in the Womens and Girls 5k Fun Run. For Alana is was a race to test our her training. She did so well, coming 53rd out of 1100 women. For Sara, it was one of a few runs each week to keep her hand in for school cross country season. For me, it was another 5k closer to 50k for the day.
I must have looked a sight, jogging around like a lunatic before the start, and again after the finish, while the presentations were on! However, by the time we rejoined the crew back at the Fat Ass, I was up to about 30k. I met Lindy again and found out that I was now a fair few km behind her due to the proceedings at the fun run.
My goal was to catch her and Heather, so as to finish with them. I took my shoes off (relief) and proceeded to run a good number of km, catching up quickly. Alana joined me for my plod, and by the conclusion, had run 21k of her own! What an effort.
The last 20k just rolled by, and I walked the last ½ lap with Lindy, Heather and several others, to see her over the line for her 50k. What a great achievement. I'm inspired beyond words. So excited I decided to go back and finish off with another runner who was doing 60k... Arnie.
Across the day, I did 54k, in not too bad a time, and had a blast. A community of people came together to see something take place.... something that will stand in our minds for a long time to come. I feel honoured to have been a part of this, and I trust Lindy goes on to see many more goals reached in her life.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Missing in Action
Or should that be:
Missing: due to inaction.
It's been a long hard 6 months. I haven't blogged anything about running, as I failed in my attempt at the GOW 100. When I don't finish, my enthusiasm goes downhill fast. I am an overthinker, in every part of my life, and very harsh on myself when it doesn't go to plan.
GOW100 was fantastic in so many ways, and in the next few days, I'll write up a proper post for it. I did nothing after that, and I mean NOTHING for about 6 weeks. My hips were sore, so I set about finding out why. One good physio later... and a revelation about my horrendous lack of core strength, coupled with hyperflexibility, I'm well on the way to sorting that issue out for good.
November saw the weekend of the 4 peaks race. There is no way I could miss that.... too special. So I took my 2 girls and we walked to the top of Feathertop and back down on day 2 (about 20k). Huge effort on their part... I was so proud. Then on day 4 the whole family did Mt Buffalo. My little guy Eric was amazing. I promised him that if he did the climb in under 3 hours, I'd take him on the 6 Foot Track in January. He made it :)
I did one other race in December... the Razorback. It was a week before we moved out, and I just wanted to go to get away from all the stress of packing and sorting things out.
On no training, it was foolish, so I opted for the 22k Razorback ridge route. It helped that no one else was doing it (all doing longer routes), so I could hide from the fitness of others, as well as claiming a victory and first across the line :) Frankly, it hurt. I carried supplies in for the longer course runners, to help out. 3kg of oranges, 6lt of water and 3kg of lollies... only 1km, but it was a very long kilometre! Having enjoyed my last run in the Victorian Alps it was off to Queensland for a month before moving to Canberra.
Canberra is wonderful! Running all the time, enjoying the company of other runners, and the kids are so happy here.
Missing: due to inaction.
It's been a long hard 6 months. I haven't blogged anything about running, as I failed in my attempt at the GOW 100. When I don't finish, my enthusiasm goes downhill fast. I am an overthinker, in every part of my life, and very harsh on myself when it doesn't go to plan.
GOW100 was fantastic in so many ways, and in the next few days, I'll write up a proper post for it. I did nothing after that, and I mean NOTHING for about 6 weeks. My hips were sore, so I set about finding out why. One good physio later... and a revelation about my horrendous lack of core strength, coupled with hyperflexibility, I'm well on the way to sorting that issue out for good.
November saw the weekend of the 4 peaks race. There is no way I could miss that.... too special. So I took my 2 girls and we walked to the top of Feathertop and back down on day 2 (about 20k). Huge effort on their part... I was so proud. Then on day 4 the whole family did Mt Buffalo. My little guy Eric was amazing. I promised him that if he did the climb in under 3 hours, I'd take him on the 6 Foot Track in January. He made it :)
I did one other race in December... the Razorback. It was a week before we moved out, and I just wanted to go to get away from all the stress of packing and sorting things out.
On no training, it was foolish, so I opted for the 22k Razorback ridge route. It helped that no one else was doing it (all doing longer routes), so I could hide from the fitness of others, as well as claiming a victory and first across the line :) Frankly, it hurt. I carried supplies in for the longer course runners, to help out. 3kg of oranges, 6lt of water and 3kg of lollies... only 1km, but it was a very long kilometre! Having enjoyed my last run in the Victorian Alps it was off to Queensland for a month before moving to Canberra.
Canberra is wonderful! Running all the time, enjoying the company of other runners, and the kids are so happy here.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Hares and Hounds 2010
On holidays in Brisbane with my family, as we do every Christmas, and I've been coerced into a race. I'm not fit, or even moderately in a good frame of mind regarding running, but surely I can just do about 10k of a relay race?? Yeah why not?
I love this place. The sounds, the smells, the sun rising, the excited chatter of runners. Within a short time (about 3km) I'm alone at the back. Comfortable with the navigation, I plod along slowly, glad to be out and about. I feel bad about putting my team at the back right from the start, but without me they don't have a team :)
I run up the hill to meet them at the first change over point, and Scott takes off into the bush, running like a man possessed, shirtless and in funny shoes. I love my brother!
We all drive to the next change over point, and swap runners again. At the last change over point, we have made up a fair amount of ground on other teams, passing some, and matching others. Thanks boys.... good effort! Our team comes in at 5th overall, not a bad result.
Finishing at the pool, a nice BBQ, chat and general relaxing time ensue, during which Scott and I are interviewed by a local writer who is fascinated with our 'shoes'. Sometimes it's nice to be different, other times I just want to hang out and not have to explain to everyone why I chose to run in slippers.
Next year, I'd like to do this again, but I'd like to do it well, trained, and actually ready to race.
I love the concept of this race. In the wee hours, a group of runners (Hares) take off as fast as they can go. They are running 50k through the trails of the Glasshouse Mountains, and a couple of hours later, the Hounds take off in pursuit. Either as solo runners, or in teams of 2 or 4, they attempt to chase down and catch the tiring hares.
I joined the Bayside Runners and Walkers, who were entering 2 teams. Scott and I join 2 other virgin trail runners to make a team. These 2 guys are seriously fast runners. Damn, I'm the weakest link again! Scott decides in his wisdom to send me off first at 5.00am to avoid me being in the QLD sun at midday (which would kill me). It's dark and cool and a whole group of us head off into the trails.
I love this place. The sounds, the smells, the sun rising, the excited chatter of runners. Within a short time (about 3km) I'm alone at the back. Comfortable with the navigation, I plod along slowly, glad to be out and about. I feel bad about putting my team at the back right from the start, but without me they don't have a team :)
I run up the hill to meet them at the first change over point, and Scott takes off into the bush, running like a man possessed, shirtless and in funny shoes. I love my brother!
We all drive to the next change over point, and swap runners again. At the last change over point, we have made up a fair amount of ground on other teams, passing some, and matching others. Thanks boys.... good effort! Our team comes in at 5th overall, not a bad result.
Finishing at the pool, a nice BBQ, chat and general relaxing time ensue, during which Scott and I are interviewed by a local writer who is fascinated with our 'shoes'. Sometimes it's nice to be different, other times I just want to hang out and not have to explain to everyone why I chose to run in slippers.
Next year, I'd like to do this again, but I'd like to do it well, trained, and actually ready to race.
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