Hellgate Gorge Fat Ass

A handful of brave or perhaps foolhardy souls lined up at the Deviation on the Six Foot Track for a crack at Hellgate. A 'somewhat difficult' trail run through some of the most beautiful countryside this planet has to offer. The rain did little to dampen our spirits, and possibly made the pace for the first few km just that little bit faster.

Down into Jenolan Caves, then through the caves area as the rain cleared was very enjoyable. It's here that Craig, one of our party, turned around and headed back up to the Deviation. Across a pretty stream and into a charming field, then the person I was following said 'up there' and pointed up a steep bush section of a mountain. After I realised it wasn't a joke, off we went. There was no trail, just slowly picking my way up, trying not to slide back down. The views were awesome!



This lead out on to a fire trail, which we followed, before running on the road for while, then back on to another fire trail. After many kms had passed and it had become evident that we may have chosen an alternate route, I recall saying "I don't mind how much futher we've run, as long as we don't have to go back up THAT hill". Famous last words!!

We saw another runner at the water drop and double checked with him as to our whereabouts. He kept us company for a short while before shooting off into the distance, with our message of possibly being slightly longer than planned.

Time was made up for our detour as we picked up the pace a little in the section leading down into the Gorge. Apart from the 6 or 7 times I fell over down the slippery slopes... (I really need to get used to this shoe wearing concept), this was welcome relief from the uphills. Stopped once to remove a leech from inside my sock, who had sucked enough of my blood to nearly choke itself.

The view from the bottom of the gorge was frighteningly spectacular. I felt I was seeing something very special, seldom witnessed in this couch loving, relaxation seeking world.

Then came the understanding of why this place was named Hellgate. I think I could count about 15 times I wished to die on that climb back up. By now the 50k of last weekend and the extra kms earlier in the run were starting to bite me badly. My running partner encouraged me up that mountain, step by step at times. To see the gate at the top was magic.

But not quite as magical as seeing headlights in the distance on the Black Range Road and finding out it was a rescuer in the form of Gareth. My brain was set to finish the distance off if necessary, but my body was much keener on the ride.



Upon reaching the end and realising we had covered 50k in about 10 hours I felt quite satisfied. There are some experiences money can't buy. Many of these can be found running the trails. Knowing that there are others willing to drive 2-3 hours to stand in the rain for a photo before embarking on a 6-10 hour run. Seeing scenery that takes your breath away, realising only a relative few have also been here. Finding that extra bit inside yourself that you weren't sure was there, when the hill seems to go on endlessly upward. Feeling at one with the world when your body is at odds with its own pain.....

I did feel sorry for the people on the train who shared a carriage with me on my trip back down to Sydney. By this time of night most were youngsters dressed up and off for a night on the town in Sydney and here was I, filthy dirty, blood filled shoe, with my bags of gear beside me, dressed like a reject from a Paddy Pallin store, ravenously stuffing down vegemite sadwiches. Ahhh good times.

I can't wait to do it all again!

Five for the price of One

Canberra Marathon - April 2008, perhaps one of the most interesting days I've ever had running.

I met some great people at the pre race pick up/registration afternoon and watched a few friends compete in the 5k and 10k races. Then it was off to a slightly cramped motel room with all 6 of us eventually finding a spot to sleep. Well to lie awake and wonder why on earth I was doing this run.

I lay there with the familiar thoughts going through my head
"I'm not really a runner, who do I keep showing up at this things?"
"I will once again, be at the back of the pack and feel like I haven't trained hard enough"
"What if I find that I can't actually do this race in Five Fingers and look like a fool?"

I'm still struggling to let go of the person who never participated in any sport for fear of looking foolish. I have glimpses of what I'd like to see myself as, but mostly my brain trips me up. With this in mind I decided I would finish the 50k no matter what, if only to further put behind me the mental image of a girl who always gave up.

I arrived very early at the event, in fact before much activity had begun. I find this helps me start the day more relaxed. I like to watch the goings-on before a race. The organisers frantically adjusting things at the last minute, nervous competitors going through pre-race rituals, supporters fussing over family and friends.

Waiting in the hall before the start, chatting to others, it became apparent that today would be wet and cold. Rain started to fall and the decision to start in Five Fingers was easy to make. I can't run on bitumen in the rain with bare feet. It hurts.

And cold it was, freezing really. The drizzle went on for quite a while and I don't think I was ever quite dry during the whole race. The first couple of hours ticked by nicely, and I felt comfortable. I kept telling myself not to rush as people ran past me... I was here for 50k. At 25k I worried for a bit that I would not get there, but realised I'd set a new PB for this distance by about 6 minutes (2.48), which gave a much needed boost. Again at 30k another PB, this time by 15 minutes (3.27).

I had taken my 5 Fingers off at 28k, as the soles of my feet were desperate to feel the ground, and the seams of the shoes were starting to cut my into my feet. I carried the shoes for the rest of the way to the marathon finish, which must have looked rather ridiculous.

Although I had wanted to go under 5 hours for the marathon, I didn't quite make it. 5.07.54 for 42.2k today. Still it was another PB by 12 minutes this time. Tim and Lorna cheered me through the line and I plodded on to finish the last 7.8k.

I started walking, as the will to push on had basically dried up. After a quick drink and a couple of lollies I found some new energy and started running, albeit slowly, down the path.

After posting another PB at 45k (5.33) a most unsual thing happened. The black skies opened up and huge rain drops began to fall. These quickly turned into little hailstones, then larger hailstones. I laughed out loud, thinking no one would believe me that I'd run in the hail... but it didn't stop. It got heavier and harder and more difficult to run in. People sheltered under bridges and building awnings, but I stubbornly carried on. Running on ice pellets while being hit with yet more ice pellets is strangely difficult to do!

I actually passed one person in this last stretch of the race, which to me was a victory... especially as he called to me "You're way too fast for me today!"

The hail eventually stopped and I ran through the finish line for a second time, sore and sorry but satisfied. 6.18.31 was my time and I'll take that as my 5th PB for the day.

The race organiser checked to see if all was ok, as I was barefoot, and once assured I was, he delivered the slightly disappointing news that they had run out of medals for finishers. I'll wait patiently for that at some point in the future....

As always I learned a lot about life and myself while running today. There are so many people out there, all with their own goals and ambitions for the day. Those who are out to win, in blistering times that make my head spin, others going for that elusive PB. Some out to conquer fear, others to tick another item off their 'bucket list'. New runners, old runners, parents, grandparents, husbands and wives... I watched others around me as I ran and realised all our experiences are the 'most important' of the day.

There are 1041 'finishers' stories from this day and I was one of them.

Six Foot Track Video

Will's video of the 2008 Six Foot Track......Enjoy!

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6 Foot Track Marathon 2008
Uploaded by Voutch

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Revelations

I came to some conclusions yesterday. I did some hill training and felt so good, I ran a bit more. Then I just was done. This meant that for the month of March, I'd run 247k. I wanted it to be 250k up till that point.

But I realised I'm a runner, I'll go again tomorrow, and the next day and the next. 3k extra to make up 250/300k for the month won't change my chance of lining up at a 100mile race later this year. And trying to impress others with a 'huge' total won't make me any better, or heighten my enjoyment of running. It's about the happiness, simplicity, satisfaction in your emotional life :)

Only Six Foot Track and one other trail run was in 5Fingers, so 192k barefoot this month. I also realised last night, that I have not worn shoes (except 5F's) to run at all this year. 544k, with 175k in slippers :) all the rest totally barefoot.

We have wide strong feet for a reason. They are meant to CARRY us, walking or running. Shoes can be pretty, but I don't think they help our bodies work better. I feel stronger now, and more in control of my running.

And if it makes me stronger, why go back to the weaker way? I'm still being asked when I'll go back to running in shoes. never...

When I finish a run, people always ask how my feet are. Even a long run, they only ask about my feet. My feet are great, strong, no pain, brilliant. My muscles hurt though, and I'm tired... the same as everyone else. But not injured.

If my whole body felt as good as my feet, I'd never stop running.

A Moment in Time

Something strange happened today.

I ran 8km barefoot on the road/footpath/grass. Just ran around my local streets. I've never done that the day after a long race. I usually walk or rest.

I had some kind of realisation about why we choose to push our bodies daily, even when we're tired. Not a logical 'write it down' kind of thing, but something in my head understood it. An inner awareness of my whole body, every muscle, tendon, blood vessel. I have never felt more alive. It felt like when I finished the 6 foot. It was weird, but really exciting.

I didn't want to stop running. The words that you wrote on your blog a while ago kept going over in my head 'I'm a runner'.

Backing up with SMC

This was never going to be easy. A 30km run at Sydney Marathon Clinic a week after the Six Foot Track. But if I want to run ultras and finish in the cut off times, I have to keep pushing.

I felt quite good until about 15km, when frankly I ran out of gas. Nothing hurt. My joints and muscles felt great, but I was just tired. Notions of laying down on the road and having a nap kept popping into my head (I'm sure I've seen someone do that somewhere??)

It was about this point that my good friend and often running mate starting keeping me company. He encouraged me/growled at me/told me to stop being slack/ encouraged me again, right through to the end. Thanks so much. He had also done the 6Foot Track the weekend before, so we chatted about this while running.

I find the looped courses so hard mentally. I hate running past the finishing line 2 or 3 times and knowing its not the end. Still it's a good challenge.

I wore the Five Fingers again for this one. By the end I longed to have my feet back on the gound, feeling the little rocks and the grass, the change in surface every so often. I miss barefoot when I need to wear shoes.

A Day to Remember

Warning... warning... long wordy emotional post ahead...

The Six Foot Track.


For years I've read about it. The toughest off road marathon in Australia. Not to be taken lightly, and with an entry criteria that many would struggle to make. Myself included. So I relegated this run to the 'dream' section of my world. I'd listen to any story about it and wish that one day I could be part of such a fabulous event.


Goal One: Gain a Place in the run

With the notion of running a 4 hour marathon to enter completely out of the question, I tried a different run to gain entry. Fitzory Falls Marathon in October last year. I've heard this referred to as a 'mini 6 Foot'. After about 40k and with the cut off time slipping away, my running buddy asked me how badly I wanted to do the 6 Foot in March 08. I told him in no uncertain terms that I didn't care if I never did it!! Fatigue talking. I didn't make the cut that day, but I was damn close. After a whole lot more events and with my times getting better I decided to put an entry form in a see if I would be accepted to run. I left it to the last minute to enter for fear of being rejected. But that wasn't to be... they let me in! One goal down, 4 to go.

Goal Two: Get to the start line

It sounds silly but to train enough to get to the start line the risk of injury becomes greater. As it is with any race, but this one meant so much to me. Fast forward to Saturday 8/3/08 at 6.30am and here I am, standing with other runners in the cold, talking tactics for the race. Mine consisted of starting at the front of the 4th wave (my allocation), running fast down to the River (I go ok down tricky hills) and put some time in the bank for the long uphills. My mantra for the run was to be "Forward Momentum ". Hmmm everyone else had more complicated ones, but I was so nervous I would have choked on a more tricky scenario.



While waiting for the start, the race director, Kevin Tiller did a quick interview with me about my unusual choice of footwear for the race. Vibram Five Fingers are now my first choice and today would be no different. Kevin shook his head at me, asking if I knew how rocky and harsh the course was. I assured him I did, but really I was slightly terrified. What if I stuffed up? What if I look like a fool, limping in at the end because of my choice? Too late now, trust your training.


Goal Three: Don't get swept off the course

This race has a pacer for each wave for the 7 hour cut off and after those a sweeper, whose job it is to clear the course of those who are too slow/injured/tired to finish within a reasonable time. I decided to never look back and with luck and good management, never lay eyes on either of them.

The gun goes and we're off. Adrenaline surged and I took off down Nellies Glen. I found myself in a good position, running right at my chosen speed, not having to pass others or let anyone pass me. I found myself very emotional even at this stage, realising I had made it to a point I had once thought impossible.

I ran strongly to Cox's River, passing people who I knew would soon pass me going uphill. I stumbled once and slightly twisted my ankle, but it didn't hurt too much. Into the river, which was freezing and a bit above waist deep for me. Very refreshing though. I looked at my watch. 1hr55 to this point and 15.5k into the race. I was happy with this time, but knew I could not afford to waste time.

The climb up Mini Mini and Pluvi was the section I feared most. Knowing I would have to walk most of it, I set about walking as fast and strongly as possible. Despite the terrain and steep slopes, I LOVE this course. Every step is a joy, every twist and turn in the road is exciting. The runners, the firies manning the aid stations, the supporters made me glad to be alive and experiencing this.

I got to the top of Pluvi in 3hr53. I was secretly thrilled with that, as I had figured it would take all of 4hr10. I jumped on the mat and declared to no one in particular "I haven't been swept off yet!".

I felt invincible, for about 10 minutes, when the realisation sunk in that there was 19km to go and 3 hours to get there. I decided to try to get to 40k by the 6 hour mark, leaving me only 5k to cover in the last hour. My strategy was to run when at all possible and if I had to walk, to make sure it FAST. No dawdling, no stopping, no feeling sorry for myself.

For years I have given up at some point in every race I enter. It hurts... slow down.. you can try harder next time... you have a sore leg... you're tired... no one will think less of you if you don't make it. I have always given in. I have always regretted it. Enough of that thinking. Today would be different.

Someone ran along side me and said "I don't think I can do this anymore" and I said (mostly to myself) "We didn't come this far to go home without a medal". I never saw her again, she took off like a shot! I found a part of me I didn't know existed. I ran, walked, ran, walked and with each km, the time factor was more on my side!! I got excited when at 35k I realised I had over 90minutes to finish. I can walk that in!

Then the final test for me... cramps. Not the odd little niggling cramp, but the "OH HELP ME, my legs are stiff and won't move" cramps. Once again, I surprised even myself by calmly stretching out the cramp and resuming a jog. This happened around every 500m or so. But by jogging in between the cramps, I kept time on my side.

Crossing the road with about 7k to go, I saw some people I knew. What a boost! I ran past as they shouted words of encouragment. I knew now that only a catastrophe would stop me. I teared up again, realising how much this meant to me. Then I berated myself for being soft and girly, telling myself I still had to actually finish.

Goal Four: Getting to the end in under 7 hours

I recall looking at my watch with 5k to go and seeing the accumulated time of 6:05. 55 mins to do 5ks WOOHOO!!! I can do that. I started to get excited and even the constant cramping didn't bother me. Part of me wanted to push hard for a better time, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. I think I spent most of the last few km crying and laughing, lucky there was no one around. I even passed 3 people on the last stretch, they looked spent.

Once I got to the cobblestones, I stopped to take off my shoes. I want to run in barefoot, I want to be the 'silly girl who runs with no shoes' and I want to show that somtimes you don't have to conform to succeed. I want my girls, who are waiting at the finish line, to see that you CAN do whatever you set your heart on. I want the friends who have supported me and encouraged me to see that I now believe in myself.

I ran down those paths with more joy than I have ever felt, I was bursting! Rounding the final corner and hearing the announcer call my name was amazing. Cheering, high fives, the odd bewildered look. I put my arms in the air and let the world know how thrilled I was to be alive at that moment. I saw people who I consider to be my heroes in the running community cheering me and I stored every milisecond of it in my mind.

Goal Five: The coveted Medal

Through the finish gate in 6:50. My friend Joanne was handing out medals and I fell into her congratulatory hug and sobbed. The emotion of years of failing was let go, I had achieved what was for me, the impossible. In my world, I'd won the race, not just scraped in. My legs turned to jelly and I felt dizzy. My girls were yelling, Tim ran over and hugged me, a huge grin on his face! Vic, Craig, Maurice, Luis and others congratulated me. All people I respect and admire for so many reasons, were genuinely happy for me.

It was a moment in time that will live with me forever. The pain and pleasure was for me like the birth of my children. A tremendous joy borne out of a physically painful and mentally challenging experience.