Ultra Trail Australia 2018 UTA50 – Sarah Connor

 

2018 was the year that I wanted to make it to the start line fit and un-injured. 

I managed that bit quite well. 

During the race however, was a different matter.

Training began for the race with Andy DuBois of Mile 27 Coaching and Kathy Widjaja of Aequilibrium about 5 months ago.  Andy looked after the running side and Kathy is my strength (and coordination!) trainer. 

These 2 people, plus visiting my wonderful chiropractor Dr Adrienne Leahy at Spine and Health Crows Nest, were my A team.  My mantra whilst training was 7 hours, 50k. I wanted to get a finish time starting with a 7. 

I did most of the hills and stairs on my own. The long runs I did with my running wife Julie and the Summit Sisters to keep me company. Cass and I did Friday morning training and put the world in order most Friday mornings over coffee after the run. 

All was well and I managed to race a few shorter distances as part of my training – Knapsack 3 hours, Mt Portal 17k and Jabulani 22k. 

They day before the race dawned bright and sunny, so packed up the car and drove to Katoomba.  

Adam was up there already doing media work for UTA as well as volunteering for check in on the Friday night. 

We checked into the hotel and I started to get ready for the race. It was then that I discovered I had forgotten to pack any running socks. In fact any socks except the ones I was wearing and a pair of thick socks for after the race. 

Sped back to the expo and thanks to Find Your Feet, found a pair that was close to what I liked. 

Saturday morning started at 4.14am when my body decided that it had had enough sleep … 

Adam left around 530am and I decided to go up to the start about 645am. I’m not very good at the start of big races. Too many people, and too much emotion. I managed quite well this year to ignore the anxiety and got to my start time of 731am, cold but ok.   It was lovely to see the Summit Sisters Cheer Squad and many others at the start line – thanks to everyone for your kind words and help, as Adam was not around due to media commitments. 

Kerry Suter counted us down to the 731am start time – and we were off. This year, the RD Tom had alternating wave of the 100k racers and 50k racers and it definitely helped keep the congestion down to a minimum. In fact, I really only noticed at the 18k mark coming down to Lillian’s Bridge and back up the Nature Trail. 

The first 6k is on the road and you swing back past the finish line and there are lots of supporters there – this bit is cool.  There were heaps of people I knew and the ladies that I was running with said “ We need to change our names to Sarah, you know so many people! “  I was a bit embarrassed but very proud of all the friendships I have made over the years of ultra running.

Towards Echo Point, I was running with Anne- Marie from Newcastle and she had not done the course, so I gave her all the important tips, like where the proper toilets are with toilet paper… it’s the small things in an ultra that make life easier.  

Andy’s instructions were to go easy through the first half, don’t smash your legs down Kedumba and power up the hills through the Jamieson valley. 

I followed this to a T.

Ran through the 17k Fairmont water point grabbed chips and checked my water and all was well. Anne-Marie stopped to tape her feet so I said good-bye and took off at my own pace. 

 Through to Conservation Hut was easy going and I was starting to feel as though I was easily going to do under 8 hours. Crossed over Wentworth Falls, up the little goat track onto the fire trail. I wanted to take a selfie at the 25k mark as proof of life. Well that did not happen. About 50m before the 25k mark, found the smallest rock on a groomed fire trail and fell flat on my face. 

 

All these wonderful runners stopped and made sure I was OK. I’m sorry I did not get any of their names, but thank you to everyone single one that helped me out.  There was blood dripping from my noise, I had 2 very sore knees but my head was OK and my glasses intact. I did the first aid DRABC on myself and found nothing more than pain.  I picked my self up, found my Buff to clean up my face and I was off walking within 1 – 2 mins of stacking.  Within 500 m I was running, albeit a little gingerly. 

 I ran in with Joanne and another lady to the QVH checkpoint, where I made sure that I had enough water. ate some more chips and grabbed a muesli bar, and then visited the medic, Jake. He had a feel and a good look at my nose and said it might be broken. I was so focused on finishing the race I did not even ask if it would unwise to keep running and he did not tell me to stop. He cleaned up the road rash on my knee with iodine – I was hanging onto the chair saying – this is not as bad as childbirth and the other female runners were laughing! 

I rinsed the Buff and there was a fair bit of blood in it.  I cleaned myself up a bit whilst leaving the checkpoint and then chucked it in my new Salomon pack where it stained the pack. Good thing blood comes out in cold water…. 

I called Adam on the way down Kedumba to tell him what happened – he could tell that I was OK and reminded me of shock that would hit a bit later. Then the media team wanted photos of my face – so I obliged them by taking a selfie at the 30k mark. There was no blood and they were most disappointed. So I took one of my knee instead and that was much better received. 

I RAN DOWN KEDUMBA! This is the first time in 4 UTA’s that I have been able to do this. It was never going to be fast running as per Andy’s instructions, but it was running.  

Then just as I crossed the Jamieson creek (which is 8.5k from the QVH checkpoint), shock and anxiety hit.  Oooh it was a bit nasty, but I tried to use it to my advantage and power up those hills.  Passed and chatted to an old orienteering friend, who helped me more than he will ever know (Thanks Chris!).  

Powered up those damn hills and ran down all the downhills and kept passing other runners. Normally I’m the one getting passed, so this was a new sensation.  Saw Horrie who was not having a great day, but could not stop to talk as I had a goal and I just wanted to achieve it – sorry Horrie I know it was hard for you out there. 

Got to the helicopter pad water point and almost burst into tears when Gemma (I think) was filling up my bladder asked how I was.  Managed to hold it together, grabbed more chips and ran off to conquer more hills. At this stage the anxiety was threatening to turn into nausea but I held it off. 

At the sewerage works, which is the end of the fire trail and 6 k to the finish point, I had 90 mins to get under the 8-hour mark. I hooked up with some runners who had similar ideas and ran the whole way through the Leura Forest and along the Federal pass track, I wanted to get to the Furber stairs with 30 mins to spare.  Somehow I found myself at the head of the conga line and the runners behind were really good about keeping me going. 

Got to the bottom of the Furber stairs 7 hours 35 mins. I had 25 mins to climb 951 stairs, I just kept going. Majell Blackhausen was coming down the Furber watching for the leading runners for the 100k. He was really positive about the conga line and cheered us all on. I concentrated on what he said and kept pushing up those stairs.  

Passed a guy who was not feeling well and offered him a lolly.  I did try to say that if you are gunna chuck, at least it would taste ok coming back up. Not my finest moment. 

The conga line was starting to drop off, so I yelled at them all to keep going! Not sure why.  Guess I thought I was determined for them all to finish with me! 

With about 400m to go, Mike Delgarno with Sophie Brown and another lady were cheering us all on. I got a big hug from him and all I could talk about was I had 9 mins to get to the finish.  Mike pissed himself laughing and said you have 400m to go – you will make it!! 

And then the next step, my left calf muscle cramped. I may have said out loud “fuck this I’m not going to walk the finish”. There was only 1 guy behind me at this stage and he kept me going to the point where the stairs meet the track to Scenic World. You can hear the crowd quite clearly and all the cow bells going off – its quite special .

Dave Meyer was perched on the fence and said – “Sarah – 3 stairs to go!” 

That was it. I was off, I came around the corner where the crowd can see you and there was this roar from all my friends – it was amazing.  I started to get teary, and just ran as hard as I could without the cramping, crossed the line, gracefully sat down and checked the time – I had done it – 7:56:45. 

Roger Hanney has some awesome video footage of this part. Hailey and Roger got me off the ground and Hailey walked me to Adam for a big hug over the fence where I burst into tears. Kathy found me and gave me a big hug too. Just what I needed! I was a bit speechless.  Gear check all done and then off to the lovely medics. Lucas Trihey found me going in the wrong direction and very kindly got me to the right place. The doctor checked me out and gave me instructions on what to do. Got my knee cleaned up – now that hurt more than the nose examination. Gillian got me soup and Adam made sure that I was warm.  I took this selfie as I had not seen my face since the stack and I could see why the doctor was looking at me funny…. 

And that was that. Sort of. 

Adam took me back to the hotel and fussed around me. I am a fairly independent soul, and wanted to get cleaned up and head back to the finish – Adam was not happy about that. He had another volunteering stint to do, but was concerned about me. Had another cry, a shower, and another cry and then Adam dropped me back at the finish so I could see friends, eat chips and compare war stories.  After about 2 hours, I lost the will to talk and Hailey very kindly dropped me back at the hotel. 

Got about 4 hours sleep and lot of tossing and turning – and then headed back up to the finish for my volunteering stint at UTA kids 1k. 

The UTA kids race is totally the best thing ever. They all get numbers even the littlest ones in prams. It’s such a joy to see their faces when they get a race number.  And then handing out the medals at the finish was so cool. Their faces when you put a medal around their neck, its just amazing. They all have such different reactions.  

And then after all that excitement, my brain finally gave up the ghost and I was done.  Headed home where the bruising is setting in nicely and my knees are very sore. Great NOSH in 2 weeks – that might be a struggle! 

Now the most important part – the thank you’s

Andy DuBois of Mile 27 Coaching – best training ever for a race. I even started to enjoy those Furber stairs in the race because of you!

Kathy Widjaja of Aequilibrium – all those damn squats and Turkish get ups and dead bugs plus numerous other exercises, did their job. 

Dr Adrienne Leahy of Spine and Health Crows Nest – kept my back where it should be and minimised the pain of my damn spondy L5. 

Adam and Alex  – my family who put up with exhaustion, grumpiness and all the things that come with being an ultra runner.

My running family  – Julie, my running wife, the Summit Sisters, Mel T. Leah and various others who I trained with – thank you one and all for putting up with me. Everyone who cheered , took photos, ran with me, supported me via emails, Messenger, Facebook and good old fashioned chatting on the phone – you are all the best. 

AROC – Tom and Alina – its been said before – you guys put on an awesome race – thanks for making this 50K very special. I’ll be back for volunteering duties next year as there are other races calling that are too close to UTA for me to do for a couple of years. I may do the 22k so then I can say I have done all the races!!

Gear used

Salomon ADV Skin set 3, 12L in go fast red. 

New Balance t-shirt 

Buff headband 

Buff hat 

UTA 2016 50k Buff which doubled as a hanky when the face plant occurred and it has fully recovered from its unintended use !

Patagonia arm warmers

Patagonia 9 trails shorts 

Lululemon bra 

Zensah calf guards

Hoka One One Stinston ATR 3’s 

Suunto Ambit 3 

Save our Soles socks – brand new – these were awesome. 

Food carried with me 

Promite sandwiches – eaten

Carmens museli bar – eaten 

Em’s Power bar – eaten 

GU electrolyte – put in water at 28k mark

Planes and frosty fruit lollies – ate some 

Pizza shapes – ate some 

Peanuts – did not eat these 

GU stroopwaffle – did not eat this 

Dried banana – did not eat this 

Other food/drink eaten at checkpoints

Chips

Coke

Water – filled up at 28k and 41k 

Six Foot Track 2018- Omar Shubeilat

Men don’t cry….

Not really and I’ll come back to it later, I ran my first marathon and ultra-marathon (ultra Is any distance longer than 42.2 km) in the Blue Mountains. It’s called 6 Foot Track Marathon and it’s one of the most famous trail run in Australia, not to mention one of the toughest.

But before I talk about the race I will give you a bit of background about me, I moved to Sydney from Dubai in July 2016, I spent 2015 and good chunk of 2016 boozing and smoking daily because I was emotionally unstable after a difficult breakup. The main reason I decided to move to Australia is to get back on my feet and get back to a healthy lifestyle. I got my PR visa, got a job offer in March 2016, resigned from my company and decided to make the move to Sydney without ever visiting Australia. It was difficult to leave my friends and family and move to a country I almost knew no one in.

I decided to quit smoking in October 2016 few months after landing in Australia, and thanks to the tough smoking laws it worked for me. I also started to get back to running little by little until I found out about a running club close to where I live and decided to join Northside Running Group (“NRG”) running club. Thanks to the club I managed to lose around 15 kg in six months, I was getting fitter, my running was improving, and I decided I want to run 6 Foot Track as my first marathon.

I trained for months with my running club, ran the Saturday trail runs with the same group (great bunch of people I must add) and mentally I was prepared for the big day. I also went to the gym, worked on my core and trained with a legend called Dominic Cadden who ran the Tor des Géants, a gruelling 336 km trail ultra-marathon in Europe.

Race day…

The first 29 km of the race were simply awesome, I was happy, and I enjoyed every single minute, went live few times on Facebook and life was kind to me. The first 4 km of the black range (around 26 to 30 km mark) I was running well, and everything was perfect. Unfortunately, around 30 km mark my watch flicked and decided to add two extra km to my overall distance leaving me in the dark and very low state of mind.

Some would argue it is not a big deal, just subtract 2 and life goes on…maybe that’s true but in my case, going for my first marathon I was looking at my watch almost every minute to check how many km are left. Needless to say, at that point my mind was mentally struggling, and I just couldn’t do simple math.

I did everything by the book, I ran the training runs every Saturday, I worked on my nutrition and tried different options (tailwind and gels) and ended up taking 8 gels on the day, I was prepared for the big the climb and I did enjoy it, what almost brought me down and shattered me was my watch. I did not expect my watch to fail me when I needed it the most.

Right when I mentally started to hit rock bottom a guy called David Beasley saw me struggling and he started running with me and insist I keep running with him, we ran together for 2 km, he was a great help and thanks to him I felt a little bit better.

Thanks to my running club, we had a great and awesome bunch of supporters who were waiting for us around the 34 km and I couldn’t wait to see them. I was mentally exhausted and very emotional, but thanks to them I managed to somehow pull myself together and aim for the finish line.

I hit rock bottom around the 40 km, it is difficult to put into words how I felt, for the first time in my life I was running and crying at the same time, it was so bad I had to stop to catch a breath. Fortunately, after a while I felt better when I bumped into a familiar face, Greg Bawden and I think he could tell I was totally messed up and out of it.

I managed to finish and cross the line in 5 hours and 47 minutes, I wasn’t close to my target time (5 hours and 20 minutes) but it didn’t matter to me. I was just happy I finished and managed to defeat my inner demons who wanted me to quit and call it a day. I

Men do cry….

I did cry at the end when I thought of my late mother, the strongest person I have ever known. I knew she would have wanted me to finish and I did because I couldn’t let her down, her image in the back of my mind the whole time kept me going.

I’m a born again human thanks to my first 6 Foot experience.

Ultra Trail Australia 50KM UTA50 Mandatory Gear- Sarah Connor

(When I told someone I didn’t have time to do a post for the 50km people my wife offered to do one. thanks Honey! – Adam)

I have run the UTA 50 three times and the UTA 100 once, plus crewed for Adam for the UTA100 too many times to remember.

I have put what I will be using for gear, but I do work for an outdoor supplier, so I am slightly biased.  Please note that I am not a gear freak (YOU HAVE A WHOLE CLOSET FULL OF OUTDOOR JACKETS- editor) (I know someone who will argue against that!) but I like to collect it. I don’t know about the weights of my gear, but I buy most of my gear on sale and try to get the most packable and durable that I can afford at the time.

If you are not sure about a product, ask the question before you buy the gear – most major outdoor stores have moved into the trail running scene and the staff should be willing to find out the answer if they don’t already know it. Or ask other runners via the SUFR page .

I like the local independent stores in Sydney – Pace Athletic and Frontier Adventure or online stores like Wild Earth or Running Warehouse or Globe Trekker. If you are lucky to live in Melbourne, the outdoor outlet stores in Collingwood, can save you heaps of money.

RULE NUMBER ONE – USE ALL THE GEAR BEFORE YOU DO THE RACE.

RULE NUMBER TWO – If there is any discrepancy between my explanations and the official line, the officials win. No arguments.

1 x long sleeve thermal top (polypropylene, wool). Cotton, Coolmax and lycra garments are NOT suitable. Compression garments and thermal compression garments are NOT suitable. Compression garments may still be used in the race but they are in addition to your mandatory thermal top and do not replace it. Refer to ‘Thermal Garment Requirements’ link for more information. Refer to this link for an explanation.

I use a Patagonia mid weight capilene long sleeved shirt. If it’s cold at the start, I’m usually wearing it.  I treat it really badly and it still loves me. Totally worth the $25 I paid for it on sale at the Patagonia outlet in Melbourne.

1 x Waterproof and Breathable Jacket with Fully Taped (Not Critically Taped) Waterproof Seams and Hood. The breathability must be provided by the material itself and not exclusively by mesh panels. Minimal underarm vents are allowed if the jacket material itself is technical and breathable. Large mesh panels, even if covered by flaps are NOT permitted. A premium jacket would have a waterproof rating of over 15,000mm hydrostatic head and breathability MVTR rating of 20,000g/m²/25hrs however much lower ratings are completely acceptable. Any non-membrane jacket must still be in very good condition with waterproof coating intact. The jacket must fit you. Plastic rain ponchos, wind jackets, water resistant jackets are NOT suitable.

I have a Salomon Bonatti that gets used once a year but carried everywhere. I love it. I have a Kathmandu Zeolite, but the Salomon is a smaller fit and fits me better.

1 x beanie, balaclava or buff. Beanie, Balaclava or Head Sock (Buff)

I am the Buff queen and own over 25 pieces. I hate beanies. But will happily wear 2-3 Buffs when it is cold!  They make a wool version, which is great for the colder weather.  As a tip, beanies/balaclavas/head socks need to be made of a synthetic material or wool. No cotton – you will get cold if it gets wet.

1 x High-Visibility Safety Vest that complies with Australian Standard AS/NZS 4602:1999 – D/N Class for Day and Night Time Wear. It must be made of a combination of retro reflective and fluorescent materials. This is not a running vest but a work wear vest. The vest must have either AS/NZS 4602:1999 or AS/NZS 4602:2010 or AS/NZS 4602.1:2011 as well as Class “D/N” on the tag. The vest must be clearly visible from both the front and back, even when wearing your backpack so you must have an oversized vest that covers your whole torso AND your backpack (your race number must still be visible on your front and over the top of your vest). Vests can be purchased at hardware stores, work wear stores, the UTA shop or Race Check-In. Refer to ‘Suitable Vest’ link for images. UTA100 runners must carry the vest at ALL times whether they need to wear it or not. The item is weather dependent for UTA50. For specific details of when you are required to wear your vest, refer to the Competitor Briefing document, which is available one month prior to the event.

I got mine from a building site that someone had left behind – score 1 for me!

Any hardware store sells these, just make sure they comply with the Australian Standard.  Buy the XL – mine slides a bit, but its fits over my pack when it’s fully loaded.

1 x headlamp- Test your headlamp on bush tracks at night prior to the event to make sure it provides enough light to both see the track and the course markings. Make sure batteries are new or fully charged and you have enough battery capacity / spare batteries. Note that waist lamps are not permitted, as they will obscure your race number.

I have several Petzl headlights – but for the UTA 50, I use a Petzl Zipka.  It’s tiny and fits really well into the corner of my pack. I used it as a back up light for the UTA 100 and it came in very handy when ran out of batteries and had forgotten to put in spare batteries …

(If you want to ask me about the different styles that Petzl make – PM me.)

Most UTA 50 runners will not need their headlamps, but its better to have a good one, just in case you are still out there when it is getting dark. Please note that it can get dark earlier than you think due to the cliff faces being on the eastern side – the sun disappears about 4pm.  I have seen someone’s very cheap Chinese headlight implode on the start line  – luckily they had a back up handy and were able to start the race.

If you by a new headlight – read the instructions, test it out even if you don’t use it during the race.  See rule number 1.

Lifeproof iPhone case

1 x Mobile Phone in Working Order with Fully Charged Battery Mobile phone coverage over the course varies from excellent at most escarpment / cliff top locations to non-existent when in deep valleys or when directly below cliffs. Generally you can get reception on hills and ridges across the whole course especially when you have views directly to Katoomba. We strongly recommend you have a Telstra phone. If you need to buy a new phone or a pre-paid SIM card or borrow a phone, Telstra is preferable as it works on approximately 90% of the course. Optus works on approximately 50% of the course. Vodaphone works on less than 30% of the course. For specific details of phone coverage on the course, refer to the Competitor Briefing document, which is available one month prior to the event.

 

Yes we all hate Telstra – it’s a national sport. However they do have the best coverage on course if you want to send proof of life photos during the event.

1 x Compass- used only in the very unlikely event that you get lost. While we recommend a good quality compass such as the Silva Field 7, you can bring any compass as long as the magnetic needle will settle quickly and will point to magnetic North. A waterproof watch compass is allowed as long as you can calibrate it and know how to use it. An iPhone compass is not acceptable as it is not waterproof and the batteries may be needed for making emergency calls.

Words stolen directly from Adam as this is where I got my compass from –

Smallest compass I have been able to find is these at 12 for < $2, being totally honest, some of them don’t point north as quickly as you might like. Buy a set, save the ones that work properly, chuck out any that don’t meet the spec, give a few away.

Whistle

Most running packs have a whistle built into them –please look for it on your pack before you get to the race (see Rule Number 1) Otherwise head to Rebel or a sports store for one.

Adam suggests

“Order something like this which has whistle, compass and backup light all in one

Or this which is locally available and has the compass and whistle”

1 x emergency space blanket, light bivvy sack or equivalent

I got mine from Kathmandu. Any good camping store should have them.

 

Compression Bandage (Minimum Dimensions 7.5cm Wide x 2.3m Long Unstretched) The wrapping should list ‘heavy weight cotton crepe bandage’ or ‘heavy cotton elastic bandage’ or ‘heavy weight elastic support bandage’. This item is used for the treatment of sprains or snake bite. Generally the pink coloured bandages are suitable and the white bandages not. There will be compression bandages available for purchase at Race Check-In (mostly as a service for international runners). Refer to ‘Suitable Bandages’ link for images.

Buy from a chemist – just make sure that if you unwrap to pack it better in your pack, keep the packaging with it as well in case they do a gear check.

 

1 x lightweight Dry Sack This is to keep the compulsory clothing dry (multiple NEW Ziploc plastic bags work well for compressing your clothing and being able to see the item through the plastic; useful for random gear checks). Sea to Summit Ultrasil dry sacks are also a good option (refer to the ‘Ultrasil Dry Sack’ link)

I use the IKEA zip lock bags – they are more durable than the ones from Woolies/Coles.

I have been known to dump all the clothes into one big zip lock bag – especially when I know the weather is going to be good.

If it looks like rain, then I separate the compulsory clothing into its own zip lock bag and mark on the outside what is in there.

1 x waterproof map case or any other way to keep your maps protected such as map contact

Again a good quality zip lock bag works well here. If you are paying attention, you should not need to use the maps in this race.

1 x Ziploc bag for personal rubbish

I usually stuff this in with the maps.

1 x set of maps and course descriptions (provided by organisers). At registration, you will be provided with one set of maps and course notes.  You will need to protect these from getting wet (using item below)

No extra info needed for this- make sure it is in a waterproof package and chuck it in your pack- you won’t need it EXCEPT if you’re asked for it as part of a gear check, so know where it is. Yes this has happened. More than once.

1 x A5 Participant Emergency Instructions card on waterproof paper PROVIDED BY ORGANISERS IN YOUR RACE PACK. The card is A5 on waterproof paper

Self-explanatory. Don’t need to memorise it, just know where it is if you get in trouble.

 

1 x Race Number PROVIDED BY ORGANISERS IN YOUR RACE PACK. Must be worn on your front, over your belly or chest and be visible at all times over the top of your outermost layer of clothing such as waterproof jacket, high-visibility vest or other garment (safety pins are also provided in your race pack). The race number must NOT be worn on your pants or leg. The race number has a single disposable timing tag already stuck to its rear side. Do not fold, bend, cut or pierce the race number as you may damage the timing tag. It must be worn as is, unfolded. A recommended method of securing your race number is to use a race belt, which allows you to easily have your number visible over the top of your outermost item of clothing. You will need to provide your own race belt if you choose to do this.

Remember if you aren’t near the front of the pack you will most likely experience a few weather changes during your event, and you’ll probably want to change clothes. If the extra fleece and waterproof pants are declared mandatory during he race you could be changing both your bottom and top clothing, meaning that the best way of having your race number visible at all times is to have it on a race belt or a SPI-Belt.   Don’t buy the Spi-Belt with the little things to hold gels on the side. These will wobble themselves out and you’ll not only run out of food, you could be disqualified for littering. Seriously, these are a dumb idea, but you can keep salt tabs or a gel or two inside the Spi-Belt pockets.

1x Timing Tag for Backpack (Bag Tag) PROVIDED BY ORGANISERS IN YOUR RACE PACK. This is a disposable timing tag, which needs to be secured to the back of your running backpack (a cable tie is also provided in your race pack). Due to the bag tag, it is preferable not to swap backpacks during the event but if you plan to do so you will need to have your own side-cutters or scissors to cut the bag tag cable tie off the first backpack and your own spare cable tie / zip tie to attach the bag tag to your second backpack. Refer to ‘How to attach your bag timing tag‘ for images.

Recommended items via UTA website:

  • Vaseline, Body Glide or other body lubricant
  • Sunscreen
  • Cap or sun hat
  • Spare socks
  • Spare headlight batteries
  • Additional warmer clothing at supported checkpoints
  • A spare headlamp in case your main light stops working.
  • More substantial first aid kit (sterile dressings, roll of strapping tape, blister care such as blister block patches, Compeed or Fixamol, antiseptic wipes, painkillers, and any relevant personal medications).
  • External battery charger for your phone

Going to the Toilet on the Course

An issue of great concern is toilet paper and human faeces being left visibly on the track. There are toilets at Scenic World, the start at Queen Victoria Hospital and one toilet at the emergency aid station. If you have tricky bowels we suggest you buy a Go Anywhere Toilet Kit (“Wag Bag”) from an outdoor retailer. We encourage you to purchase one of these kits as we simply cannot have people leaving faeces and toilet paper in this pristine environment. Remember Leave No Trace!

The Go Anywhere Toilet Kit is a portable, waste collection system that turns solid and liquid waste into a hygienic, odourless, biodegradable substance. The waste collection bags are pre-loaded with non-toxic Poo Powder which treats up to 900g of liquid and solid waste allowing for multiple uses. The Poo Powder contains a decay catalyst that controls odours and breaks down solid waste into a spill proof, bin friendly substance.

After using the kit, carry it with you to the next checkpoint where there will be a waste bin for disposal.

Mountainspotting

An alternative short guide to the Tor Des Geants… or any 100+ mile trail race ever

(Apologies to Irvine Welsh and the writers of the Trainspotting movies)

339km in the Italian Alps
25 mountains over 2000m
An elevation gain of 31,000m (880m every 10km average), much of it on powdery dirt, rocks and talus or scree fields.

You can read 100 race reports that can give you the impression that this race (or others) is inevitably an incredible ordeal of suffering, damage, emotional torment, a march through hell, and so on. And it can be, but it is, at least to some extent, a choice – your choice.

Choose constipation because you’re sticking to your day-long ultramarathon diet and avoiding fibre, so your belly swells with twin basturds. You don’t have time for this shit, or any shit. The labour pains are incredible. When your poop-babies are born you’ll name them Chokito and Kaka Channel, or Craply and Deuce if they’re boys.

“Nice ass.”

Choose dehydration because you don’t drink much anyway on your usual four-hour runs, or you want to cut the weight you carry and there are checkpoints with drinks every 10km (max.) anyway. Besides, if you get thirsty, there are heaps of pools of water and run-off streams around, and that water couldn’t have gone through that many cow pats, right?

Choose losing all memory of great swathes of your privileged journey through a stunning part of the Alps, because you sleepwalked through it.

“…and you may ask yourself, ‘Well, how did I get here?’ Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down…”

Choose hallucinating instead of sleeping, because with the amount of money you spend on running shoes, race entries and gels/powders, you can’t actually afford drugs. Just don’t be shocked when River Phoenix beckons you to follow him over the side of that drop-off.

“It’s a celebration! …Caffeine… it’s a helluva drug.”

Choose endurance over speed in training – all the time – because you’ll never have a need to rush to meet a cut-off time or keep warm, or beat a storm to some shelter, or meet your support before your torch batteries run out. Until you do.
Choose pusculent blisters that rip and develop into craters that feel like hot pokers stuck into your feet because ignorance is blis… ters. Choose limping because it’s good training for your future career as a pimp and because moisturising and lubricating and taping feet is for pussies – who has time for that crap at checkpoints?

“Altitude rocks!”

Choose scoffing down painkillers because you embrace the inevitability of the pain, but you don’t actually want to feel it much, and your kidneys will recover from the strain afterwards – besides, you’ve got two, don’t you?

Choose freezing in the biting wind that’s no surprise because it’s frigging September in an Alpine region but you thought the extra 175g of that microfleece and 200g of food bars was going to slow you down too much, especially since you didn’t bother doing much strength training in the two years of prep for this race because you just ‘didn’t feel like it’. Choose hypothermia because this business of putting clothes on and off all the time just gets a bit old and slows you down.

So happy because it’s finally dawn and head is now warm because it is covered with three layers.

Choose chundering because that salami and toe-fungus cheese that’s been out in the sun for hours and touched by 500 hands that have wiped noses and maybe butts is so good when it’s washed down with half a litre of warm Coke at 1800m that you just have to experience it again, but in reverse direction. Or choose disappointment, disappointment from your support who have carefully sourced or prepared your food, but you eat too fast because you run too slow, so up it comes.

Support crew prepares to get filled with Regret.

Choose injury because you train to push your body through pain instead of training it for resilience. Choose rushing through checkpoints thinking you’ll last just a little longer, ignoring the battalion of medical crew just waiting to lay their hands on you.

“Why does that ambulance keep following me?”

Choose crying like a bitch under the weight of your own expectations and the Sandman hammering on your eyelids, but you mistake the tornado of emotions for what it really is – the Godzilla of all sleep monsters and a deep lack of carbs.

Always stop to smell the roses… or at least slow down to eat the choc-orange cake.

Choose chafing. Choose sunburn. Choose crotch-rot. Shit, have you ever been out on a trail for more than eight hours? Just work it out.

Choose headspins, nausea and shortness of breath because you thought you would just adapt to the altitude after a day or two, and somehow, forgetting that you spend the vast bulk of your time in the race at 2000-3000m – it’s not that high, at least not if your pulse rate is under 120 – but at 150+, it’s plenty high enough to knock you about.

“I don’t dare look up yet.”

Choose the dramatic story, because stories of pain and suffering make for better telling. I mean, look at the Old Testament.

“…so I ate the cow dung, but then I was struck by lightning in the blizzard while wearing only a mankini, so I picked up my kneecap, put it in my thong strap and hopped up the boulder field without waking up…” – “Yeah, cool story, bro!”

OK, sometimes it’s not a choice. We all make mistakes and sometimes circumstances get in the way or our body rebels against us, but this is a sport about risk minimisation. If I was a sponsored runner doing races all the time, under pressure to perform, then the need for speed would come before some of these considerations. For the rest of us, finishing is the important part – we do races to see places in the world and say we finished something. I also wanted to prove that this could be done and you can still be well at the end.
I have now met too many people who have come to the Tor Des Geants twice and failed to finish (40-50% of race entrants finish), and my heart breaks for them. Hopefully some of this tough love and chewy logic help you through this race, or whatever your big 100-miler+ goal race is.

TBC – Watch out for the longer race report/ruminations of wandering 25 mountains (with all the BEST pics!), also on this site. 

Great Southern Endurance Race 100 Miles GSER- Cathy Duffy

GSER – 3 sunrises

Why run one hundred miles and stay awake for 49 hours?

You face the start line with the busyness of life on your shoulders and as you start life’s pressures evaporate and slowly kilometre-by-kilometre you are stripped bare. You focus on life’s basic elements until you reach a point, almost primal, where you are so physically exposed that what is truly important resonates so deeply creating an emotional vulnerability that’s so pure it’s exquisite. A hundred mile race will open your heart and allow you to feel so intensely and intimately; so that when you cross the finish line the clarity of what is important to you and the emotion you feel is like nothing you’ve experienced and it is intoxicating.

The lead-up

As soon as I heard about GSER (Great Southern Endurance Run) I thought it would be perfect as my first miler. To be honest hearing it was a marked course through the beautiful Victorian Alps lured me in, however on further scrutiny it was clear that Sean and Mel (Mountain Sports) were living up to their reputations and it was not to be taken lightly. Seeking advice from Coach Andy (Mile 27) about my choice of Miler, the answer was simple; all milers are hard so pick one that speaks to you. Damn it, GSER spoke to me.

Twelve months of commitment got me closer to my first miler. My training changed over time as I found myself in the Blue Mountains each weekend chasing “vert” with my best friends Perry’s Lookdown and Mt Solitary. I loved this time in the mountains, as I would get figuratively lost each weekend. I was however acutely aware of the time away from my children (who are now adults and are actually totally ok with not having me around) and my beloved hubby, highlighting the commitment was not just from me but my family. Despite having complete support from my hubby, my motivation to finish became so strong to almost justify my absences.

I have always loved taper and don’t feel like the caged animal some describe, as I much prefer to sleep in on weekends. This taper however hit me like a tonne of bricks. It’s easy to say with some bravado “I’m going to do my first miler”, “yeah I’m doing GSER”, but this is from a distance and suddenly it was here and I had nowhere to hide. I had no reason not to do the race and no excuse for a DNF as I had completed my training and was injury free. The nerves I felt those final weeks were so distracting. I suddenly had a million questions but couldn’t remember what they were to ask. I had a complete inability to think about anything else and finally jumped into planning the logistics of the race, which made me even more nervous. Reading course descriptions which included ‘take care if poor visibility, steep drop off the north side’ and ‘steep conglomerate traverses – take care’ met with my despair and my hubby’s raised eyebrows.

Another taper problem I experienced was the fear of bugs. Why is it that everyone around you becomes sick just before a race? I sat at work with everyone coughing around me, I became obsessed as I could feel the clean air around me rapidly shrinking as the bugs invaded my personal space and threatened to invade me with each breathe. I even gave the people around me a talking to for coming to work sick, in hindsight I must have sounded like such a b$%ch!

In the twelve months leading up to the race I sought Miler advice from many people. As race day rapidly approached I reflected on these pearls of wisdom and can honestly say they were stored tightly in my mental roll-a-dex and used at some point. The most powerful advice came from an unexpected source. My friend is 14 and has had a chronic illness her whole life, however this does not define her. She is vibrant, crazy and sensitive, and has a maturity and wisdom beyond her tender years, which makes her intriguing. After telling her about the race I messaged, ‘any words of wisdom for when the going gets tough?’ she responded ‘just remember to breathe’. OMG it hit me ‘just breathe’. It is so simple, go back to basics, don’t overthink things and just breathe. I loved it.

So after all the training, key races done (6 Foot Track, Buffalo Slam, UTA100, Hounslow Double) and with a wish for time to reverse and the inevitable to stay in the future, hubby and I packed up the Dufvan and together with those two special words we headed to Mt Buller for our adventure.

The race

After a restless sleep I was awake from 0300hrs. I lay in bed almost delaying the inevitable as I was acutely aware it would be a long time before I would feel warm and secure again. Time however marched on and I hopped out of bed and readied myself. The weather was colder than expected, mirroring the Blue Mountains winter conditions, and I made a last minute decision to wear long tights (with short tights underneath) for the start of the race. Leaving the warmth of our accommodation I was pleased it wasn’t raining as predicted the previous evening.

 

As I made my way to the start line the excruciating nerves I had experienced disappeared; I knew my big question would be answered in less than 53 hours. I had concerns for making the initial cut-offs, a fear felt by others. I pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind, however they occasionally crept to the fore where I did my best not to acknowledge them determined to just do my best. I met friends, we wished each other well and soon enough we were off.

Start to Gardner’s Hut (11.6km /11.6km)

We started up towards Mt Buller summit. It was foggy, the ground was wet and I am sure there was snow. The wind was blowing hard and I was thankful for my gloves and long tights as I waited to warm up. I love it when you reach a summit and it feels so rugged and wild and Mt Buller certainly did not disappoint. My heart joyfully skipped a beat as I summited and then headed towards the first descent where soon after I saw my first sunrise.

There is a reason we have 3 hours to do 11.6km! Reality BOOM right there on the first descent! We were in for a loooooong race and I reminded myself to stay in the moment, and as I whispered ‘just breathe’ I took five deep breaths. I could feel myself relax by the third breath and I felt centred by the fifth. This five-breath routine featured prominently throughout the entire race, sometimes needing to do it several times within one minute! As we continued down the first descent we had a little conga line going as it was slow at times navigating the terrain. I was fixated on not getting lost and each time I would see a marker I said “marker” out loud as I figured if I got into the habit now I would be reminded later when fatigue gripped to look for markers (which worked).

The mood was light and I focused only on getting to the first checkpoint. At one point I briefly found myself alone as I tried to keep a consistent pace. I asked myself if I was going too fast and slowed a little however fears of missing the cut-off kept surfacing as I continued along. I reached the checkpoint with half an hour to spare. I quickly filled my water and continued on.

Gardner’s Hut to Upper Howqua (33.9km/45.5km)

What was ahead of us was a steep climb up Eight Mile spur to The Bluff Summit. To be honest I am much more comfortable climbing than doing the steep descents, so I felt ok with the climb. I focussed on staying comfortable. Just breathe. The weather was warming up and I started to feel hot and decided to take my long tights off at the summit. This thought quickly vanished as within ten minutes the sky erupted in what can only be described as a water-sport festival complete with hail, wind and thunder; was there lightning? I suddenly became chilled. I layered up and kept moving.

The storm passed and I reached the checkpoint where I replenished my supplies and tended to my feet. The preventative tape had not held in the storm so I quickly applied new tape and put dry socks on. Still aware of the cut-offs I didn’t want to waste any time and headed towards Mount Speculation.

Photo credit- Shane Boshammer

Upper Howqua to Speculation (17.3km/62.8km)

I remember feeling comfortable; staying in the moment, continuing to ‘just breathe’ determined not to be scared off by thoughts of Mt Buggery and Horrible Gap. Right when I was trying to work out how the hell I was going to climb up a steep rock surface I received a message from race headquarters informing us a storm was imminent and to seek shelter when the wonderful combination of thunder and lightning is experienced. Hmmm just breathe. With a lot of effort I got up that rock surface, and right as I was reaching the summit lightning and thunder harmonised. I threw my poles to the side and lay down away from the electrical storm magnets. You get cold very quickly. I layered up and noticed those around me moving again so I jumped up and continued along the ridgeline. I thought I was cold then!

The storm had continued on its merry way when I reached the next checkpoint and I was in great spirits, predominantly due to the relief of making the cut-off. There were people everywhere, some bouncing around and some not so good. I quickly replenished my stores and left alone. Leaving this checkpoint I had a choice to continue towards a 100-mile finish or take the alternative route of 50 miles. This was not even a question I needed to answer.

Mt Speculation to East Buffalo Road (31.2km/94km)

I was now heading into the slowest and most technical section of the course and to increase the level of difficulty it was to be the night section. I headed down a wide and very rocky dry riverbed. I felt good. I pondered being alone as I had chosen not to have a pacer, and hoped to meet up with someone to complete this section with. Still glowing with the relief of making the cut-off I enjoyed the runnable slope almost skipping parts in a child-like fashion.  Conscious of nutrition and hydration I took a sip of water and stopped dead in my tracks. Just breathe.

I had forgotten to fill up my bladder with water.

F#$k. How could I be so stupid? Was my race over because of this mistake? I just stood there.

Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe.

I tried to ring Coach Andy but the reception wasn’t very good and I couldn’t get through. I paused. Coach Andy always said that something would happen to challenge me; it was how I responded to the situation that mattered. Just breathe. I struggled with the idea of going back. I felt I was risking the cut-offs. I did a stocktake of my water. I had 600ml in a flask, few sips in my bladder and a 600ml bottle of perpetuem. Was it enough for 10 plus hours? I had hydrated well up until that point and I was heading into the cooler night section. I knew there was a water tank in 15km (the advice was not to drink the water, however I was carrying purification tablets). At the time I didn’t understand just how long it would take to get to the water tank.

After standing still for what felt a very long time I made the decision to continue on.

I was still cursing myself as I wondered if this would cost me the finish. Just breathe. Soon after the sun disappeared and as night descended I bumped into Scott and Mark. Scott is the best pacer. Please contact Scott for any pacing duties. With desperation in my voice I told the boys about my stupid mistake. Without hesitation Mark offered me 600ml of water mixed with electrolytes. What a bloody gentleman. I held the bottle like it was my child’s beating heart as I gently tucked it away. Despite his reassurances that between them they had enough, I refused to use that water until the bitter end hoping not to need it and return it to my saviour. I hope like hell sharing his water with me didn’t affect his race, however I am extremely humbled and grateful for what probably saved my race. Having the extra water meant I stopped fixating on not having enough but now stressed about missing the water tank. It was dark, was it right beside the trail? Would we miss it?

Initially writing this race report I couldn’t quite remember where the log section was but then I remembered a couple of Mark’s near misses climbing over them – it pays to be a female! The log section is as the name sounds, hundreds upon hundreds of fallen trees littering the path we were meant to travel. I’m unsure why the course markers didn’t clear them for us! It was so slow going as it became more of an obstacle course than a trail run. Sometimes it was easier to just drop to the ground and crawl underneath. It almost seemed comical that this was the GSER course and discussions were had that the course was ‘beyond words’ and had to be experienced to be believed.

I worked hard to keep up with Mark and Scott (the best pacer). The boys were hilarious. Without knowledge of the course (perhaps Mark’s failure to advise him) Scott the road marathoner had agreed to pace his friend. Scott exclaimed he hadn’t even run a step yet! Credit to the best pacer though as you wouldn’t have known he wasn’t a trail runner as he continued on so strongly.

Navigating the terrain was so difficult. It must have been around Mt Despair (aptly named) where if I hadn’t been trying to keep up with the boys I would have frozen many times. The rocks we were climbing over were wet and sloping with an almost slate like appearance providing small spots of traction to climb over. This was the part that the course notes referred to as ‘steep conglomerate traverses – take care’. It almost seemed impossible and with one mistake you would slip. Turning my head to the right my head torch would shine into the darkness and you felt the acuteness of the drop below. The only thing that stopped me from freaking out was keeping up with the boys, as I didn’t want to be alone in the dark. I kept apologising to them as I felt I was intruding in their pacer/runner relationship but they were both such gentlemen and assured me all was ok. Thank you Mark and best-pacer Scott, Karen is eternally grateful.

Thoughts of the word ‘Viking’ muster fear and trepidation and yep The Viking on the GSER course lived up to expectations! I reached the steep 6 metre chimney climb which thankfully the organisers had placed a ladder to assist us (shocked face emoji). There was a bit of a traffic jam as runners navigated their way up the chimney. It was here I bumped into my mate Dan. What a champion he is! I felt instant relief when I saw Dan and it seemed to be reciprocated as he asked if he could tag along with us. “Yes, without a doubt yes!!!”

The chimney as the name suggests had two large boulders either side of you. Partway up was a huge rock wedged in the chimney with a fallen tree branch across the middle. Down the middle of the chimney was the ladder (picture those flimsy ladders that hang from helicopters in movies) and to the left of it was a thick rope. The initial part of the climb felt very awkward as the ladder swayed and to complicate things I was holding onto my poles at the same time. I looked up and could see Dan had made it and was waiting for me. As I continued the ladder clung firmly against the boulder in the middle, which meant you could not put your feet in the rungs. I hung nervously considering my options. I couldn’t use the ladder, the rope was to the left, and I was holding poles and had to squeeze around the fallen tree branch and over the boulder in the middle. I was scared of falling and breaking not only myself but also the person below. Dan was giving me advice as I was clearly in struggle street. I ended up taking my weight via the rope with my flimsy runner’s arms, with poles flailing about; I then had to manoeuvre my body to one side of the tree branch whilst threading the poles the other side. Dan told me to throw my poles ahead of me, which I did and I’m not sure how, and with one almighty heave I got to the top and avoided falling onto the people and rocks below. Just breathe.

At the top I continued my quest to the water tank and my obsession with missing it in the dark. I filled Dan in on my water fiasco and he kindly offered me some of his water. Scott and Mark were ahead and Dan and I continued just behind them. I eventually needed Mark’s donated water and soon I ran out of fluids.

There like a mirage, after what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably about 6 hours we reached the water-tank!!! It was like an oasis until Dan peered into the top and reported the water was brown and infested with insect larvae. Scott and Mark continued on as I took my pack off and struggled getting it under the tap situated low to the ground. As the brown sediment laden water filled my bladder I wondered about the next challenge I would face. I popped two purification tablets in, reminded myself I was carrying Gastro Stop and waited at least 40 minutes before drinking the sweet nectar that would save me. I ignored the taste as we joked the insect larvae provided some much needed protein.

We arrived into the checkpoint relishing the atmosphere and support. I needed to sit down and tend to my feet. They had been speaking volumes as blisters were presenting themselves and becoming quite painful with each step and I was painfully aware we were only halfway! A wonderful volunteer found a large white bucket for me to sit on and offered assistance. He was happy to fill up my bladder and remembering the water situation I yelled after him to empty the contents before re-filling. He was really very helpful and assisted where able. It was with much trepidation that I took my shoes and socks off and my fears were realised as the camp collectively responded to the largest blister next to my big toe. “Do you want the medic to look at that?”…. ummmm yes! It was cleaned, popped and redressed. Prior to the race I had thought of lots of different management strategies for things that could go wrong. This included blister management; I did not consider this in the context of persistently wet feet. The tape I had previously trialled just did not cope and feeble attempts to re-tape seemed futile. I put on dry socks and changed my shoes and hoped for the best as Dan and I continued on our way, each step reminding me of my feet’s journey towards annihilation. It was 0445hrs Saturday morning.

East Buffalo to Selwyn Creek Road (14.2km/108.2km)

Sharing my feet angst with Dan, we spoke about it, we acknowledged it, and as my dear friend Natalie has told me, once you hurt you can’t hurt anymore. This became true thankfully as either the pain dulled in the latter parts of the race or my mind just accepted and dismissed it or most likely everything else was just hurting more!

Shortly after leaving this checkpoint we saw our second sunrise in the race. I am not sure exactly where we were but it was breathtaking. The mixture of colours streaming from the sky against the mountain ranges we had travelled took our breath away. Dan and I both later wished we had taken a photo, however the experience of capturing the majestic beauty nature was offering us could not have been shown in a photo. It was a very special moment.

I had now travelled the furthest, over the longest time, ever!

We reached the checkpoint and once again my feet had to be tended to. I had longed for uphills as with each downhill step the pain was excruciating and I knew something more definitive needed to be done. I peeled back my socks. The tape was loosely covering all the blister points and underneath you could see the bubbles of fluid. A lovely medic spent time on my feet opting to leave the existing tape on she placed gauze over the blisters and secured it with brown tape. Although this loosened over time I left this on for the rest of the race. Thank you to that wonderful lady!

Selwyn Creek Road to Mt Saint Bernard (16.8km/125km)

We left the checkpoint in good spirits and headed towards Barry Mountains. This leg shall be known as ‘am I hypothermic?’

The third major weather event occurred during this leg. I’m not entirely sure where exactly but it involves summiting and ridgelines. We were never entirely sure if we were on The Twins as we just kept on reaching peaks. There seemed to be more people around as we trudged through the weather as the rain, wind and drop in temperature had me wondering about the signs and symptoms of hypothermia. There is a fine line I imagine, and I was tiptoeing on the precipice. I remember stopping briefly (like seconds) and instantly felt cold to the core. So I continued on whilst trying to decide whether to indeed keep moving or stop and layer up. For me stopping would involve removing rain jacket, taking off pack, pulling out clothes and putting it all back on. If I weren’t feeling ok I would have made the decision to do this, but at the time I felt stopping would make me hypothermic whereas continuing to move I was ok.

No words were spoken as we faced the elements; spurred on by the knowledge I would see my hubby for the first time at the next checkpoint. I had it all planned out; I would dive into the Dufvan, strip everything off and climb under the bed covers to warm up. I pictured those survival movies and thought my hubby would have to climb in with me with my hands nestled in his armpits. I have never been so cold.

By the time I arrived at the checkpoint, the storm has passed. I still dived into the Dufvan for a full change, however did not require any armpits to warm me up. My only issue at this stage was I didn’t have any more long tights. I had never raced in long tights before so didn’t have a collection to use. I placed short tights on (I have a million of those) and felt instantly better to be in dry clothes. This really was a great checkpoint. I saw beautiful friends and received some nourishing hugs. My hubby excelled at crewing. I had provided him with a small list of potential food items, which he must have thrown out as it was like shopping at the supermarket with an array of food options available.

Mt St Bernard to Harrietville (21.9km/146.9km)

Heading out of the checkpoint, still a little cold we headed up the road towards Mt Hotham. It got hot. I had to strip off some of the layers I had just put on. We trudged up the road and Dan got his hike on. The man can hike and I found myself running to catch up! I finally managed to sidle up next to him and as we were admiring the track off to the right heading towards Mount Feathertop we missed the turn to the left. Thankfully we hadn’t gone too far when a cyclist desperately rode back up the hill to tell us our error.

Back on track we continued on our merry way. We were in good spirits and for the first time I was actually running ok down Bon Accord Spur. We were hoping to reach Washington creek before nightfall, however our head torches were required just short of this. We got to the river and jumped onto the bridge; thankful for a water crossing where we could keep our feet dry, NOT! The bridge just stopped partway over the river so we turned back and after some confusion we worked out that our feet were destined to stay wet as we walked through the creek.

As we were getting close to the Harrietville checkpoint a local hopped out of her car. She ran up to us with so much excitement and asked if we were Cathy and Dan (she had been looking at the online trackers). Talk about leaving us with swelled egos. Thank you to the wonderful lady who put a real spring in our step! Soon after this I got to catch up with a running friend I didn’t recognise at first despite him having rescued me after finding me breakdancing in an ants nest during my only DNF.

Arriving at the last checkpoint with still no sleep we had decided to move through as quickly as possible and if we needed sleep in the last leg we would stop for 15 minutes on the trails edge.

The checkpoint was exciting. Up until this point I had never considered finishing. Thoughts of a finish crept in, which I quickly dismissed as a lot could still happen. My hubby tells me I was chatting away like I had been drinking! Mel from Mountain Sports was there. She’s amazing and offered so much support and encouragement. Wayne once again had a huge display of food for Dan and I and I must say vegemite sandwiches have never tasted so good! I chowed down heaps of food mindful of limiting my time at the checkpoint. My feet were tolerable (sort of) so I left them.

I jumped up and right before leaving the checkpoint I heard I was the second female. WTF! I had honestly wondered whether I could finish this beast and thought if I did, it would be crawling across the finish line onto an ambulance stretcher with seconds to spare; so hearing I was second confused me. Someone mentioned that third was coming in and I felt compelled to hurry up.

Harrietville to Finish (34.1km/181km)

Leaving the checkpoint my mind was buzzing with thoughts of second place, but not in a good way. I felt a pressure. Dan and I discussed this, as for just a moment things felt like they were unravelling as we were pushing harder than our bodies were allowing. Dan urged me to go ahead as he didn’t want to jeopardise my possible podium. I felt sick in the stomach after all the food. We took a moment and decided if we both put our best effort in we would be happy with the outcome regardless of any placing. Once this was decided we found the pace that was right for us and the pressure was off. I did however peer back occasionally to see if anyone was coming and just quietly the stars in the distance can sometimes look like head torches!

I asked Dan about strategies we could use to get through the final kilometres that would seem endless. This had been really good to think about as in the kilometres to come we would remind each other to ‘just breathe’ or ‘one step’ or ‘clear mind’ as we trudged on in a foggy blur of sleep deprivation with our minds willing our bodies to the finish line. Dan asked me about what my finish line image had been. I told him on all my runs where I had imagined the race I pictured collapsing across the finish line into my hubby’s arms. He said he always crossed the finish line with his beloved children running beside him and as they were not there he pictured face timing with them as he crossed the line. We decided in that moment the clichéd crossing the finish line holding hands was not for us. We would honour each other beforehand and cross as individuals to honour the images we had hoped for in the 181kms leading to that moment.

At any other time this section would be so easy to run. Wide, rough, fire trail for endless kilometres. Each 5km marker seemed to be getting further apart and I found myself frequently checking my Avenza map to make sure we were on track. I noticed as I was walking looking at the map I would stagger off into the bush. Unless I was clearly focused on the trail ahead of me I couldn’t walk straight. I was clearly fatigued, however didn’t feel like I needed to sleep. Dan was behind me, closely following my steps. I could hear his breathing change and wondered if he were sleeping. I continually did my 5 breaths to keep me centred as it felt that was the only thing I could remember to do.

With each downhill the pain in my feet was excruciating and I noticed I was grunting with almost every step. We were climbing well and grateful for each uphill as our feet hurt less. We were quiet with the occasional sound of wildlife reminding us of our location. Out of the blue I said to Dan ‘your girls would be so proud’ and OMG he was off… he later told me at that time he was picturing his daughters, who are clearly an inspiration as it took ages to catch him!

Going into this race I had always thought the defining moment would be when I got to the point of wanting to DNF, what would I chose? I had mentioned this to Dan at some stage and he questioned this thought process. Why would that define this experience? He was right, as I never wanted to DNF during the entire race. Here I was well over 40hrs into the race and right now was the defining moment. My body was spent, I had asked for this moment, I had trained for this moment and I could not complain or begrudge the moment I had dreamt and wondered about for so long. I stayed in the moment and relished the experience. This was my defining moment. It had been imperfectly perfect! I had made mistakes like not filling up my water bladder and poor blister management but I had dealt with them and moved on, I had stayed in the moment and I was happy.

170km surely the course markers got it wrong and this was 175kms.

We got quieter but kept moving. Just breathe. I waited for the hallucinations I had heard so much about but they didn’t come. Clear mind.

175km.

Like zombies we continued. One step. Just breathe. Our third and final sunrise almost passed without the recognition it deserved, as our brains just could not comprehend it.

We reached the road and it almost took me by surprise. I finally allowed myself to think about the finish. The threat of emotion began to rise and suddenly Dan and I could sense the end and we ran, we ran like finishing was our everything. We were stripped bare. We couldn’t talk, we couldn’t think, we couldn’t process but we could feel. I felt my family. I felt their never-ending love. I felt my life was theirs and if ever needed they could have it. My heart was exploding as my eyes filled with tears and my grunts of pain became intermingled with intermittent sobs and pure emotion that I could not keep at bay. We got closer and closer to the finish and my desperation to fall into my hubby’s arms became almost painful. My heart embraced my children and wanted so desperately to see them, feel them, touch them and savour their whole being. I was stripped bare and all that mattered was my family.

Emotions streaming from me the kilometres ticked by and I savoured each of them. Nearing the end Dan and I paused briefly as we knew our moment was not on the finish line but then and we hugged. No words were needed.

That final kilometre was magical as the physical pain dulled and finally I acknowledged to myself that I had done it. I saw the finish and after countless kilometres I parted with my miler buddy as I saw my hubby – that beautiful, brave, supportive and loving man and I dived into his arms sobbing. Finally after 49hrs and 15 minutes I felt the security I had longed for. I felt the love. I felt happy and I didn’t want to let go. I hung onto him until someone reminded me I was still to cross the finish line. I let go and across the finish line I saw Sean Greenhill, a Race Director who had been so invested in my journey. I hugged him tightly, still sobbing, happy to share this unique moment with the man that created it.

I turned and saw Dan as he ran across the line holding his phone with his wife and children with him and couldn’t help but think how lucky those girls are to be so loved. We did it Dan!!!

The course

Whilst this has largely been a personal reflection, homage must be made to the GSER course. Many comments were made during the 49 hours in utter disbelief at how the course could be that hard. The consensus was that it was beyond words and had to be experienced to be believed. Perhaps a comment on the first descent by a runner alluded to what was ahead. She told me before the race she had come to train on the course and on this very first descent she didn’t get too far as it was difficult to work out where the trail went. What followed was indeed that!

I remember hundreds and hundreds of fallen trees we had to climb over or under. I remember sliding on descents in the dark, where you had to jump down slippery surfaces and in the moment of letting go you hoped you wouldn’t fall too far. I remember the race markers just going through the thick bush and it seemed illogical that the course would go that way, and then you remember it’s a Sean and Mel event and it makes perfect sense. I remember spectacular vistas as you reached a summit and the world was laid out before you in endless mountains. I remember these breathtaking views with a happy heart.

I remember creek crossing after creek crossing. I remember lush forests and during one night section a massive tree came crashing down that got the heart racing. I remember the most incredible plant I have ever seen. The huge tree ferns you see with the trunk and the fern leaves spilling out on top like an umbrella, I saw several similar looking plants however the tip of the fern leaves were still joined at the base making the whole tree one massive ball. I know this wasn’t a hallucination as Dan saw it too!

I remember the birds and their cheeky noises, as the sun would rise. I remember the silver leaves that looked like race markers during the night. The beauty of the course was ever changing and kept the mind and imagination fluid and entertained.

GSER offers more than your mind can comprehend.

UTMB Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc 2017 Emma Brown

Not since primary school have I sprinted my way to a podium finish (and that red ribbon is still a prized possession and yes OK it may have actually been the sack race). I’m not fast, never have been. But anyone who knows me will tell you, I’m stubborn, I’m persistent and I’m a survivor. Despite my incessant chat, I don’t actually like people that much. Team sports are not for me. I like to pick my company and I like to test my limits. So running an endurance event has a certain appeal for me. If all else fails I can out stubborn runners who are much fitter than me.

Anyway, back in 2014 my good friend Tanya ran this mythical beast of a race called Ultra Trail Mont Blanc. The race is 100 miles, 10,000 meters of elevation through 3 countries all whilst circumnavigating Mont Blanc. Tanya’s nuts, inspirational, but as I decided at the time a) she was certifiable and b) I was never, repeat never running 100 miles.

Entry to UTMB requires a minimum of 15 points from a maximum of 3 approved races in the previous 2years. For me this was would equate to 3 100km race. Race entry is capped at 2300. You must also be lucky enough to get through the draw.

For the ladies who’ve given birth more than once, you will understand the special type of amnesia that takes hold. You forget the pain and the hurt and the hours of agonising labour almost as soon as the baby is born. You fall pregnant again, you’re excited, a little nauseous maybe, but you start planning and preparing for the happy arrival of your new born.  But then there’s the moment that you go into labour for the second time and you find yourself remembering and wondering why the hell you decided to do this again.

Ultras are like that, you plan you train you get nervous, the race hurts but then you have the medal it’s shiny and pretty and the pain is forgotten, (cleverly the medal/ buckle or gilet doesn’t cost you a tank load of money- unlike the children).

Following a disastrous Ultra trail Australia(UTA) 100km 2016, during which I rolled my ankle and hobbled to the finish, my strange logic dictated that I should find something harder to do. I fancied Alpine challenge 100km. So, I talked my friend Dominic into it and we trekked off to Victoria for the weekend to enjoy all the Victorian Alps could throw at us.

At around this time I began to hear murmurings of a group of runners from the Northside Running group (NRG) entering UTMB. Tanya had mentioned plans for a repeat visit. I was becoming more interested.

I knew going into Alpine challenge that the race was a qualifier for UTMB. I was curious to see if I could earn the necessary points for UTMB entry, not expecting to, and only half thinking I’d enter even if I could get through the draw.  There was also the small issue of persuading the family who I hadn’t really mentioned it to yet. Would they want this to be how they would spend their 2017 holiday?

During Alpine challenge, I started to think that I really do love the mountains. I really enjoyed the race and by the time we left our new friend George (a participant in the 100-mile race) at the turn off for the Miler, I secretly wished I was taking the Miler turn off too.  Add to that Rocco talking about UTMB only 5mins after finishing Alpine Miler and I’d decided I was going to enter the lottery. (No one gets in the first year they apply apparently).

Seems my entry was successful! Some sweet talking with the husband and the payment later I was in.

My fantastic coach Scotty Hawker tried not to choke on his green smoothie when I told him, (I have no idea what he drinks but I’m sure its ridiculously healthy) and he very politely agreed that it wasn’t impossible for me to complete. I knew I was going to have to train my arse off.

I signed up with Matty Abel at DBA runners for strength work and found myself a great physio. Pete and Elliot at the body mechanic kept this old girl going even when bits of my body started to complain about the training load. Thank you fellas.

Fast forward through a lot of training, hills, more hills and even more hill repeats later and I was as ready as I was going to be. Special thanks to Tanya, who is an amazing runner and friend and I really wouldn’t have done half the training without her (I really can’t thank you enough). Brook, Nikki, David, Byron, Russ and everyone else who put up with my endless chit chat and the odd trail tantrum – thank you.

 

Chamonix

After a long trip with 3 exhausted grumpy children and an only slightly less grumpy hubby, I found myself in Chamonix.  I love my children but jetlagged kids are not fun and I will confess to briefly considering moving out of our Airbnb into whatever hotel had spare rooms. Sensing that this would be bad for family relations I toughed it out and placated the kids with macaroons, cheese and Orangina. Beer and cheese kept Steve happy too.

The lead up to the race was fabulous, the credit card got a bashing at the expo on more than one occasion and I don’t think I managed to go into Chamonix once without bumping into at least 2 or 3 of the Aussie posse.  I really should have rested more but there was too much to see and do, plus I had to balance rest with making sure the kids had a good holiday.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Race.

I’m a bit slack and one of the last of our group to write their report. So rather than repeat everything they’ve already said I pulled together the table on the next few pages.

Kit

The weather was utterly miserable at different stages of the race. It poured with rain, it snowed, the fog was intense and the mud was worse.  I’ve struggled with the cold in recent years but I knew my thermals were good and I purchased a spare one for the drop bag.   I was bought up to believe there is ‘’No bad weather only bad kit”.  After UTMB 2017 I’m not sure I still agree. The mandatory kit was extremely important and not something I would scrimp on, I used every last thing I carried.

Items I literally wouldn’t have survived without;

Black diamond poles

Salomon Bonatti rain pants. (I love them)

Salomon rain jacket

Ronhill windproof mid-layer

Ice breaker thermals

Hanz waterproof Gloves (although the addititon of thin merino liners would have been better)

Salomon 12L pack

The People

To be able to share this experience with the great group of guys and girls from Australia and particularly the NRG group made the whole trip really special.  I’m not a member of NRG but I was welcomed to the group with open arms, these guys rock!

 

My family were amazing. Steve managed to negotiate the official buses, with all 3 children in tow, to meet me at Courmayeur, Arnouvaz and Vallorcine. After missing me at the finish of this year’s UTA he managed to, not only get to the finish, but to position himself and the children such that they could run across the finish line with me.  I was crying before I saw them but if you look at my finisher’s pictures I’m balling. It was an amazing feeling. I hope that they are as proud of me as I am of them.

The people made this race for me.  I like to chat with other runners most of the time. If I go quiet I’m either struggling or focussed on getting to the top of a climb.

Tanya and I had agreed to run to Les Contamines together and we did see each other a fair bit at the beginning. Tanya is insanely fast downhill and I prefer the up hills. I would push on up the hill, knowing that she would catch me on the downs. This worked pretty well, but at some point, during the first 30km we became separated.

Given that not everyone speaks English, I was a bit apprehensive about how I was going to while the hours away with no one to chat to, but a ski season in Quebec and some high school French enabled me to speak to a few of the locals. I also met a great English girl called Emily who I stayed with until Courmayeur. She went on to beat me by 4 hours, so maybe I did go off a bit fast.

Russell was one of the group from Australia and someone I had trained with before we left. Russell and I saw each other at almost every checkpoint.  A few times he said “What are you doing up here? No seriously Emma, what are you doing up with me?” I wasn’t sure how to take this.  In training Russ had been a stronger runner and he’s definitely faster than me over 100km. I was worried this meant I was going to blow-up soon. I decided to just keep running as I was because I felt pretty comfortable.

Obviously, the blow up was in the post though, because the next time I saw Russ I was dying on my arse. It was the one and only time I fleetingly thought I couldn’t make it. I felt so sick, shaky and utterly broken. Russ said that there was nothing he could do for me and that I needed to get through it on my own. Tough love, even if he did head out of the checkpoint with me for a little while. Of course, he was right, it’s all about mental toughness at this point and I had to get my shit together by myself. I took some ginger and shuffled out of the checkpoint, thinking that would be the last time I saw him.

Poor Russ, like a bad penny I kept reappearing.  Eventually at La Fouly after the trauma of Grand Col Ferret and sleep deprived, I’d worn him down. He agreed to us sticking together through the second night and that we’d reassess our arrangement in the morning. For me this was great, it felt good to be in this together and I found thinking about how someone else was feeling and trying to keep our mood up to be a great distraction from my own discomfort.

Other than my briefly snapping at someone outside Trient, who wouldn’t pass me, despite breathing down my neck, I can honestly say that I felt positive for the rest of the race. My body didn’t quite agree. My knees had been screaming at me since the descent of Grand Col Ferret.

On the downhills, I was trying to preserve my quads, which by now was pretty pointless. They’d deserted me long ago. I think the knee pain was undermining my confidence in my balance, which is not that great at the best of times. Downhills were painfully slow.  I didn’t want to slow Russ down (something that I thought about a fair bit) so I made sure I pushed hard on the uphills, calling back to check he was still behind me.  On the downhills Russ would go ahead and this seemed to work well.  When he fell asleep dreaming of storm troopers I woke him up and when I told him how little I’d eaten he made sure we stopped to take gels. I think it was a fair partnership. We would probably have run certain sections quicker on our own, but equally we would have been slower on others.  Mentally staying together definitely gave me an advantage and I hope Russ feels the same.

Sleep

Early on I was anxious about the prospect of hallucinations.  I’m a bit of a control freak, I hardly drink alcohol and I don’t like the feeling of not being in control mentally. I decided that I would try and stay ahead of the sleep monsters. I tried to sleep at Arnouvaz. It was a complete waste of time.  I wasn’t tired enough, it was daylight, I was wet from the rain storm and the checkpoint was really buzzing with activity. I just got cold and had to waste time getting warmed up.

Later in the race, I was hallucinating.  Not badly, but I was seeing shapes, mostly animals, in the shadows, the mud and the trees.  It was like when you look up at the clouds and can make out familiar shapes. I kind of got used to it. I was seeing snakes in the mud, but I knew they weren’t there so just ignored it.

The only time the visuals got a little weird was when we went through a wooded area that really did have carved animals by the side of the track.  (At least I asked Russ and other runners and they said they saw them too!). I was surprised at how well I could function on so little sleep. Perhaps I have the kids to thank for the sleep deprivation training?

I eventually slept at Champex Lac, by which time I was desperate for sleep and had no trouble passing out on a wet stinky mattress for about 20mins.  Later I slept with my head rested on my pack on a table in Trient. I felt surprisingly good after 5/10 mins. “Refreshed” would be a bit strong, but I felt human again.

Fuel

I didn’t eat enough, nowhere near. I struggled to eat on the climbs, partially because of the cold, I couldn’t feel my fingers to open the zips on the pack, and partially because I didn’t want to break my rhythm. I’d taken tailwind (powdered carbohydrates) which was dissolves, but the cold temperatures meant that I wasn’t as thirsty as normal, so I was getting fewer calories there too. Later I was in a calorie deficit hole so big that the thought of eating made me feel sick and I ate nothing for hours.  Each aid station had hot sugary tea and salty soup. I could stomach these and made sure I had both at each aid station after Grand Col Ferret.

Start to Saint Gervais

‘’I’m really doing this!’’

Saint Gervais to Bonhomme

“Will this climb ever end?’’

to  Lac Combal

“Speaking French (badly) with the locals’’

to Courmayeur

“’Loving life’’

to Refuge Bertone

“’Kill me now’’

Feeling Nervous, excited No climbs like this in Oz Cold, determined, strong Mostly feeling strong Impending doom

Vomitty & Pathetic

Loved
  • The crowds,
  • Conquest of Paradise (off to war music)
  • Running with the Aussie Posse
  • The stars aka head torches for miles.
  • The Sun coming up
  • Meeting another Chatty English chic
  • Lac Combal – Stunning
  • View from Mont Favre
  • Seeing the family at the checkpoint
Absolutely Nothing
Low Point
  • The last few km of the climb.
  • Head torch battery change.
  • Impending frost bite … numb and then burning fingers
  • Frustratingly crap downhill technique to Courmayeur.
  • Quads hate me
  • Finding the loo at the checkpoint
All of it
Nutrition …erm …whoops 2x SIS gels, tailwind, a bit of banana and sugary tea 2x SIS gels, tailwind, a bit of banana and sugary tea 1x SIS gel, tailwind, coke, banana, date bar Ginger
Terrain Shortish but bitey hill – setting the tone The longest climb known to man. Single track up Steep switchbacks down to Courmayeur Steep Switchbacks up forever
Weather  Temperate Dark and Baltic Warming up Sunny and warm Warm

To Arnouvaz

“’I didn’t die, I’m going to finish’’

Hell

“Nope, I’m going to die’’

to Champex – Lac

“When can I lie down?’’

to Trient

‘’Wake up Russ!’’

to La Flegere

‘’The sun! We’re going to make it’’

to Finish

‘’F@uk yeah!’’

Feeling Sick of mud Terrified and cold Hallucinations Hallucinations Determined and positive Tears of Joy
Loved
  • Catching up with Russ before the checkpoint.
  • Seeing the Family supporting me despite the rain.
  • Surviving
  • Seeing Russ again at La Fouly
  • Road (should have run more here though)
  • 20min sleep at Champex- Lac
  • Seeing Bruce
  • Short sleep in Trient
  • The views when the sun came up
  • Seeing the family at Vallorcine
  • Russ distracting the competition with cheesy chat up lines
  • Seeing Brook and her Mum at La Flegere
  • Being cheered on by the elites who were out for a stroll.
  • Atmosphere in Chamonix
  • Finishing with my Kiddos
  • Celebrating with Russ
Low Point
  • Feeling sick walking the only (relatively) flat section
  • trying to sleep but too cold
  • Grand Col Ferret tried to kill me
  • Anything downhill
  • Anything downhill
  • Mud
  • Fall on stairs into Trient
  • Course changes – two hills and a very technical downhill.
  • My knees were stuffed but I wanted sub 43 hours so pushed hard. It hurt
Nutrition tailwind Nothing Soup, tea, rice,2x  gel, tailwind Soup, tea, 1x gel tailwind, Date and banana bar, tailwind Coke, 1xgel
Terrain Rolling single track then extremely muddy descent to Arnouvaz Steep, very muddy Steep, mostly groomed and road
Weather  Torrential Rain Sleet, snow, fog, Blizzard Rain Rain Warmer – fog at the top Warm and sunny

 

*Bonus points- here is Emma getting a podium at Primary School

UTMB Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc 2017 Tanya Carroll

I wrote such a long UTMB report last time, that I didn’t think I’d bother with another. However I changed my mind due to the loopy way it ended. I have kept the first part very short and would have included more photos but I outdid Brook by not taking a single one.

Aussie line- up at UTMB 2017

 

Lead up :  Less volume in training (around 70 80kms pw vs 100) but similar vert. No injuries.

Pre-race in Chamonix :  Great to know so many other runners from Aust. Felt relaxed, good sleep in the days prior and a couple of hours on the day

Start to La Fouly 110kms

The second hill was diabolical where I couldn’t keep anything down but would then come good, only to repeat the cycle 15 mins later. I got way too cold as I had started only in a T-shirt and skirt (sorry Richard for not listening). So cold that I couldn’t even get my fingers to work to open the ziploc bags containing my thermal top, gloves etc. I had to use my teeth to get them open.

I came good and whilst being behind where I wanted to be, I was happy enough cruising along. I thought that the race was going to pan out in a similar fashion to 2014, where I wouldn’t have a lot of wriggle room before the cut offs, but was feeling reasonably OK (OK being a relative term in the middle of a brutal miler). I only managed to have 3 gels I think, so was relying on soup, Coke, oranges and a couple of crackers as my fuel. This seemed to get me through last time, but with the cold temperatures (down to minus 9 degrees) and the benefit of hindsight, my nutrition obviously wasn’t sufficient.

 

La Fouly to Champex Lac 123kms

I didn’t realise it at the time, but the wheels started coming off a few kms out from La Fouly. The problem was because I had completed the race before, I kept anticipating when certain sections and checkpoints were coming up. The trouble was as I got more tired, my memory and my handle on where I was on the course was getting a bit messed up. I got really frustrated as I expected to see the La Fouly checkpoint a lot sooner than I did, and in my mind I felt like they had shifted the location from last time. I know this doesn’t make sense but I also felt like I had some say in where the checkpoint should have been, and that the person in charge of this checkpoint had ignored my instructions. Hmmm maybe alarm bells should have been ringing.

 

I got into La Fouly and set my alarm for a ten min snooze. I didn’t fall asleep but I think it helped a wee bit. I had just under 4 hours to get to Champex Lac. It was only 13kms with most of it downhill (and as it turns out on the road), and then a relatively short ascent. I headed off feeling tired but OK, and planned to hopefully have a 15min sleep at the next CP. The downhill section seemed to go quickly and I felt like I was running the majority of it. I seemed to be passing quite a number of people and was feeling pretty positive.

 

Then things started to go awry again at Praz-De Fort, just before the climb. As in 2014 I noticed a cubby house on the corner of a street. I was beyond tired as It was around 11.45pm on Sat night, and we’d started the race at 6.30pm on Fri. I stopped to see if I could go in, but too many runners were going past. From here on it was a real stop start affair, as I kept closing my eyes whilst I was walking, then would just stop for a while and then finally I tacked onto the back of a group of people and started up the hill.  I got what I thought was all the way to the top, but then couldn’t hear or see any signs of the checkpoint. I was getting really frustrated, although not upset. For reasons I still can’t fully explain, I then decided that the path I was on, was not leading to the checkpoint, and that I was lost.  It didn’t help that there were lots of little switchbacks and a few other small trails in the vicinity, not to mention faces carved out of trees (truly, this bit wasn’t just in my imagination).  I don’t think I really strayed from the path though, I just kept sitting down and then telling anyone who would listen that we were all lost and that I didn’t know how to get to Champex Lac.  I felt like I was sending people off in all different directions, but maybe it was just the switchbacks that were making me think that.

 

Some people kept on going, and others stopped and convinced me to go with them for a little while. From my fuzzy memory and looking at Strava it appears that I stopped 3 times. The first two times for 15-20 mins each, and then I got up and went another 700m or so each time before sitting down again.. I am very clear that when I first stopped there was 90 mins until the next checkpoint (CP) cut off, and I was feeling so frustrated as I just wanted to get there to have a quick sleep. When I stopped for the 3rd and final time I didn’t know it, but I was only 800m from the CP, had an hour to get there, and only had a further 70m of ascent!! However I sat there for ages before I finally rang the organisers to say I was lost.  I spoke to someone but then got cut off and couldn’t get through when I tried again. I was soooo tired and felt a mix of helplessness and frustration. I just wanted to get out of here and to the checkpoint. Not one ounce of me wanted to give up, and I kept thinking about running across the finish line with Matisse and Jesse.

 

I don’t know why I couldn’t work out that everyone that kept on going on the trail never came back to me, so they must have been on the right path. It was also very well marked, and I could see all the markers glowing in the distance. As with La Fouly the trouble was I thought I knew where the CP was, and I couldn’t reconcile where I was, with where I thought I should be. I even told some poor souls that the checkpoint was near my driveway, and if I could find that, that I would be able to find the right way. I had definitely taken a side trip to crazy town.

 

Finally with 5 mins to go before the cut off time, a middle aged lady, two girls in their late teens/early twenties and a dog came across me sitting in my same spot.  I started to deliver my standard speech that we were all lost and not to go that way, when they said they were volunteers and would help me back to the CP. I told them that as there was still 5 mins until the cut off, that I obviously should be able to keep going, but the older woman was adamant that this was the end of my race. I didn’t say anything rude but my body language would have given away my extreme frustration. I also I still thought that they were leading me in the wrong direction to the CP and said as much to one of the girls. Other than being super tired, my legs were still feeling good and I had no stomach issues. Of course they were doing the right thing, but I didn’t even walk with them into the tent, and stormed off ahead.

 

So that was it, an absolute bummer after 123 kms out of 167 according to the results sheet. I’d completed 7 out of 10 of the climbs with 3 of the shorter (but muddy apparently) ascents to go. I had covered somewhere between 7,000 and 8,000 metres of ascent depending on whose data you look at.

Funnily enough I got up the next day not feeling too bad about it, and even now it is only when I sense someone else is disappointed for me that I feel it too. As I said to Robyn Bruins I got to enjoy even more time on course that she did, albeit I didn’t get a cool new finishers gillet, or come in 10th place!!! (Congrats again Robyn). On a positive note I stuck to my plan of not giving up (although sitting stubbornly on the trail didn’t help), and I did have some absolutely magical moments out on course. It is an incredible race with jaw dropping scenery and vibe. I might go back one day to crew for someone else or to do one of the shorter races, but I don’t feel like I need to do the full UTMB course again. I’ve been fortunate to do it twice and I think there are so many great races out there, that I’d like to do something different next time. Perhaps that’s Western States as it will be my 3rd year in the lottery, so hopefully I get in sometime in the next 2-3 years. Might need to pick up a bit of speed for that one though.

 

In terms of what I’ve learnt from it, probably just what I already knew – that I have to improve my nutrition as clearly my brain stopped working. Maybe the cold affected me more than I realised, should I have taken no-doze? or perhaps tried to sleep on the side of the trail and then woken up with some more clarity? Regardless I had a blast anyway.

 

Finally thank you to my coach Andy, everyone who I’ve trained with, and to my family for the sacrifices they make for me. Congrats to all the other UTMB’ers this year, regardless of the result everyone put everything they had on the line. It was so much more fun having you all around

My human and doggie rescuers coming into Champex Lac– Im not in the picture as I marched off ahead in a foul mood

UTMB Ultra Trail de Mont Blanc 2017 Russell Evans

Sooooo,

UTMB 2017, the loop again, where to start?

In 1968 a race was held for the first nonstop solo yacht race around the globe. By the time the race had finished, more people had been on the moon’s surface than had completed the solo voyage.

For the record, Robert Knox-Johnston was the only person to finish the race but curiously, a French sailor by the name of Bernard Moitessier had the chance of winning. Rather than sail to finish line to instant fame and cash prizes, he instead continued to sail on to Tahiti, (effectively sailing 1 1/2 time around the world non stop).
It became apparent to him that racing wasn’t the inspiration for competing in the event but rather a pure joy of sailing.

 

I like to think this is what happened to me over the 43 hours I was out there and hopefully this will become apparent within the below mumble jumble of my race report.

Let me just say from start that attempting such an individual event takes a team. Those of you who were around me during my training should feel part of my run. Family and friends, please feel part of my run as you directly or indirectly got me to the start line; you have every right to feel proud of yourselves because of what we achieved.
UTMB 2017 would be my second time running in the event;

I knew what had to be done.

I had learnt valuable lessons from the first time and this time there was an entourage of Australian’s going to the event.

 

AND

As a bit of a ultra groupie, the field for this UTMB was epic.

This includes, but not limited to:
(Listed in finish places)

Mens
François D’haene
Kilian Jornet
Tim Tollefson
Xavier Thévenard
Jim Walmsley

Womens
Núria Picas
Andrea Huser
Christelle Bard
Kaori Niwa
Kellie Emmerson
Alissa St Laurent
Anna-Marie Watson
Amy Sproston
Maria Nikolova
Robyn Bruins (I know her J)

Beginners guide to surviving Chamonix before UTMB:

  • Get there before the race starts (essential).
  • Go for a light run after the flight from Australia.
  • Eat baguette’s, eat all the baguettes.
  • Don’t walk too much.
  • Buy everything from the expo.
  • Take a selfie with Killian.
  • Go to one of many Pastries and go and look at a Chocolate Almond Croissant……. But don’t eat it ! (But know that it’s there when you finish the loop).

 

The night before the run a group of the Australian crew had gathered for dinner at an Italian restaurant, only two tables down was David Laney who had finished 3rd and 4th in this event. I think everyone on our table ordered Bolognese as did Laney!!!!!!!……… This was a great sign!

Friday came and I did everything I could do to sleep before the start of the race but I just couldn’t, the excitement was just too great.
With a course adjustment and horrible weather predicted, they started the race later making it an 18:30 start time. The Aussie contingent gathered at the church some 100 metres from the start line. We were in no rush to push up to the front and I was actually sitting down until the count down.

 

As a man, you are only allowed to cry in two situations:

 

  1. When watching the end of Terminator 2 and Arnold Schwarzenegger lowers himself into the molten lava to save humanity and gives the thumbs up, and

 

  1. At the start of UTMB when they play Vangelis Conquest of Paradise (I’m not too proud to say I shed a tear or two while this was playing at the start).

Since learning lessons from my first loop, my strategy this time was to get through the night as slowly as possible, make it to Courmayeur in some kind of shape and not the complete wreck I was on 2015. After Courmayeur I was going to ‘Pimp my Run’: I had caffeine, iPod, Panadol and clean running clothes bought from the expo.

Anyway back to the start. My ‘no rush’ policy was working well, just keeping up with general traffic and making a point to look around at the views. It was a really good strategy that I felt worked well. The only part where I wasn’t comfortable was the weather. From experience, I don’t feel you are really in the run until passing Col De Bohemme, (it’s approximately around the marathon mark). Until that point, I was slow; not being passed by too many people and not passing anyone, when even the slightest twitch or feeling of chafing occurred I would pull off to the side and reapply my ultra glide, I ended up having to do this every 4 hours or so but no real issues. (Chafing almost brought my race to an end last time). The climb from Les Chapiexu  to Col de la Seigne  seemed to take forever and much longer and tougher than I remembered. During this time it started to rain and  the mud was making it horribly tricky to climb. At one point I fell over in a puddle of mud, but I got back up and continued on. Once above 2,000 m it started sleeting and eventually snowing. Stupidly I didn’t change into warmer clothes so my fingers went numb before I could open my zipper. I was locked in to making the pass in shorts and a t-shirt. Thankfully the pass was close enough so that I was able to gut it out and then get the hell off that mountain.

Climbing above 2000m I really noticed a change in weather and my heart rate. The air gets thinner and with the mixture of cold air, it really slowed my pace, but as soon as you drop down to  below 1,800 m you feel awesome and it almost makes you forget about the climb you were just on. It’s kinda a UTMB sucker punch that you fall for every time.


The run down was some of the most beautiful trails I’ve ever run on mixed with the sun rising over the Alps it was trail running at it purest.

As I came into Lac Combal (65k) I saw Emma as she was leaving, she was in high spirits, she was running really well, she was either having the race of her life, or unbeknown to her she was about to blow up.
I wished her luck and spent a good 15 minutes at the checkpoint having some soup, salami and cheese and got out there and started a runnable flat section before the climb to Arete Du Mont Favre, (roughly 500m of vert  in 3km) It’s an epic climb as you can see the top when you start and the trail follows ridge lines up. You can see people making the pass when you are still an hour away. You always wished you further up the climb but then you turned around and appreciated where you had come from.

After making the pass, the run down to Courmayeur is gentle for the first 4km but ruthlessly cruel after Col Checrouit.
It’s kinda like coming off Mt Solitary but runnable. Either way it sucks hard and your quads start to cry.

If you’re reading this report and thinking of doing UTMB this part is brutal! It makes you realise that you may be lucky to be running UTMB but you are also as dumb as fuck because you just don’t think a run could be this cruel.

 

UTMB has it’s own personality and right now it was being a moody bitch. Coming into Courmayeur I was feeling ok-ish, time to pimp my run!

Again a familiar situation, I saw Emma as she was leaving, she still looked pretty good but the race was really only just starting.
I was lucky enough to have one of Bruces (One of the Aussies I had dinner with last night) friends Danae’s help at the aid station. An absolute sweetheart and champion! I changed my clothes, took some panadol loaded up with caffeine gels and got out of there. Spirits were high and I started to climb pretty well, keeping up with people and overtaking where I could but once again I was in no rush, I figured I was 3 hours ahead of cut off without doing too much and I was hoping to increase that to 6 hours by the time I hit the streets of Chamonix, ultimately getting a sub 40 hour time.  Those who know the climb, know that it’s in Italy, so it’s not well maintained and I think it is one of the steepest climbs on the course. This climb almost broke me last time but this time I really enjoyed it. Yes I became one those annoying people who would say “Hi” to everyone.

 

To put things in perspective, I took about 30 mins off my climb back in 2015. I figured from here I would try to hurt myself till Champex – Lac, approx 40km away (not that far by UTMB standards) for a nap, I figured I could make it in 8 hours.

Got to the top Refuge Bertone (83k) feeling awesome, hi-fiving ethe day walkers, commenting on people’s fashion choices – life was good. As I was getting my water bottle filled I heard this cry of “Russell”, I looked around and thought I was hearing things but sadly not, there was someone who used to be Emma, (think of a sick puppy………… Actually puppy’s are kinda cute even when they are sick…….. think of a sad lioness).
Those of you who remember doing there first “Miler” should appreciate the feeling, if it was a 100k event you are ok because you can get your shit together to punch out the last 20 k ’s, but when you have 85+ks to run you are nowhere, you dare not even think about the finish line, you really just want to curl up and die. I was looking for ‘proof of life’ from Emma and I honestly thought her race was done. I reminded her that this is exactly what happened to me in 2015 and that although you want to quit, you just need to make it to the next checkpoint. The one thing Emma has in abundance is heart, she got up and left the checkpoint

I stayed at the checkpoint for a little longer, restocking and changing into my rain jacket. The weather at this point was horrific, a strong headwind and it was sleeting; tough ks were ahead. I caught up to Emma and just stayed with her for a while, she had regained the key component of running ultra’s……….. Persistence.

Soon enough after all the help I thought I could give, I passed her and I started to run pretty well. The trail is once again gorgeous, massive glaciers and a view of Mt Blanc to your left, and I was almost skipping over very runnable terrain.

Coming into Refuge Bonatti (90k) the toll of the run was starting to show on my body. I could notice I was starting to get really tired, hot spots on my feet and a little chaffing were becoming more apparent. I took a good 10 minutes at that checkpoint, trying to sort myself out. As I was leaving Emma was coming in and I decided to wait for her and get the next part of the run done with her. It was actually nice to run with someone, I think we worked pretty well together as we were able to push each other without red-lining. The only real bad part was the final descent into Arnouvaz (95k). The trail had basically just turned into a mud slide, no amount of “lugs” on the shoes would grip.

It was about 1k or so down and we both struggled down the mountain. The highlight was one guy who we pulled over to let pass but he refused. He then tried to take higher ground to pass, only to slip and snap one of his poles.  I asked him if he was OK, but inside I was thinking good luck climbing up the 5 climbs with one pole you impatient fucker!

Anyway Emma’s family was at the next checkpoint to meet her which gave me the perfect opportunity to make a move and get to Champex-Lac before sundown.
Meanwhile UTMB were forcing people to put on wet weather gear.
Basically if UTMB tell you to put on wet weather gear you do it. Don’t argue. Don’t hesitate. Just do it.
The climb to Grand Col Ferret was without doubt the toughest bit of running I have done.
I have been caught in squalls on yachts before but this weather was the worst I have ever experienced.
If this was Australia the event would of been called off, but this was UTMB, we had to earn our gilets.

On the climb people were turning around and deciding their race was over.
I honestly thought we were marching to our deaths! I’m not just saying that I genuinely thought I was going to die…… my new mantra….. ‘don’t die’

Anyway,

I marched up that hill with every bit of clothing I had and out of the mist came a guy rugged in a huge parker who scanned my bib and pointed me to salvation, La Fouly was just 8km of downhill away. The climb was cold and had sapped my energy.
UTMB was having her wicked way with me and I started to fall asleep on my feet. I pulled off to the side of the track and lay down in the rain,(Yep, that was me). I ended up resting for about 5 minutes and got down to LaFouly

At La Fouly (109k) I put my head down on a table for about 20 mins. There was no chance of sleep but at least it gave me mental break. I got up, got some calories in and then as I was going out I ran back into Emma. It was so good to see a familiar face and she looked like she was coming good. From this point on we decided to stick together and tackle the rest of this monster.

Out of a LaFouley we were greeted with a runnable road section that had been changed because of the weather. We managed only a shuffle but we did manage to knock off some kms without exerting ourselves too much. The highlight of this section was a group of young kids who had set up their own aid station serving warm cups of tea all they wanted in return was a hi-5. Tooooooo cute!

Then the next climb up to Champex-Lac, I think out of all the recognised climbs this is the shortest and perhaps one of the least steep but for some reason everyone finds it hard and so did I. Emma as usual set a cracking pace up the climb and I just tried to hang on; it was becoming a familiar story…… Emma killed it on the up hills and very cautious on the down hills and vice versa for me. Frankly we both could’ve finished quicker if we were by ourselves, but would we have finished at all?
(I reckon I was going to feel just as good as Killian about finishing the race.)

When you get to Champed-Lac (123k) checkpoint, it is like aid station heaven: abundance of food, warm, friendly people and beds!
We were going to take a 20 minute nap, but I found it impossible to get warm from my wet cloths and it was actually quite the waste of time for me, however it was time off feet.
As we were getting up we heard Bruce’s voice. Out of 2 other sleep tents he walked into ours 🙂 We didn’t speak much, as we were trying to be quite, but it gave me an enormous lift to see or even hear Bruce. I honestly thought he was out of the race. He lay down and got some rest, and Em and I took off again.
The next section was to Trient – 17ks of “f@ck this shit”!
I knew that if we could get there we would more than likely make the loop. This sections is a bit of a blur to me. I remember being really sleepy and Emma and I picking out places that we would run…… to the next lamp post…. To the next marker………. We knocked off about 5km within an hour and this is where I started to loose it.
Being mentally spent, I remember thinking I was in a theatre watching a LaLa Land musical that used storm troopers as characters and how impressive it was that storm troopers who had a “Mask” were still able to show emotion.

Anyway next thing I remember is Emma firmly shouting at me, saying it’s time to take some caffeine.
I was still moving but I was out. Emma was good enough to bring me back to form. She told me to ask myself short questions to bring myself out of my coma. This seemed to work, but I was really nowhere in this section.
I asked the question above would I have finished if I hadn’t stuck with Emma? I really doubt it, Emma was paying dividends ! 🙂
She helped me get to the top of LaGiete and at the top I took off and agreed with Emma that I would run down and get 20 mins rest and wait for her. The run down is relentless quad bashing “f@ck this shit” shit! But I remember Bruce overtaking us going up the hill then me passing him on the way down. Bruce was having a strong run in the back half and the value of a coach was coming through.

I got into Trient (140k) then straight to the table for another nap, set my timer for 23 mins, pulled my buff over my head and this time I was out cold on the table. I slowly got up and looked around for Emma, she had fallen asleep opposite me. Curious as to how I would of seemed to other people at this time at it was 4am in the morning and I felt as pure and honest as I have ever felt. Really strange feeling, I guess your body is all out of excuses???

I knew now our chances of making it were fairly high and that it was all about getting to Vallorcine, the climb started off in the dark, but as we were summiting the light of new day was warming us and the run down to Valorcine was spectacular and not quite as devastating as I recall it being last time. Even stopped to take a photo!

What seemed to be a recurring theme was the gradient and terrain got extremely hard as you were coming into the check points, this was no different but least it was a little drier and it wasn’t raining.

Vallorcine (150k) to Chamonix, they had changed the course here as well instead of one massive climb we had “M” shaped climb……..two peaks! I wasn’t expecting this and neither was Emma and the terrain was technical, UTMB was still testing us. Em was pushing herself up the hills as she was trying to maintain/imporive her female placing. As I was walking behind her I offered to slow down her female competitors with cheesy pick up lines. “Your pace or mine?” or “when did you stop modelling and start trail running?” there was real no need as she was killing the up hills, she developed quite the gap on me even with a very technical downhill section, her sleep starvation of being the mother of 3 seemed to help her over the last 10 hours of the run! La Flegere was in sight!

We just had to climb a ski slope……
Straight up, no  switchbacks no turning, just a straight line to the top La Flegere chair lift.
It was demoralising
Salvation came with the summit and upon seeing a friend who I had done some training with Brook, she had finished 10 + hour ago, had had a nap and came up to cheer me and Emma on. Absolute champion! Small (actually quite big) gestures mean everything at this stage hi-5’s were more important than calories. Sincerely thank you Brook.

Now just a lazy run down hill to the streets of Chamonix, as Emma had her whole family here, we had agreed that we would run our separate races from this point on.
This is the part of the race that makes everything worth it. You know that you were going to finish, The camaraderie between runners is at its very best, everyone cheers you on: from day hikers to Killian Jornet (As Emma later pointed out). The race wasn’t quite over, I had been at battle with a fellow runner for the majority of the downhill, our intermittent energy burst were sporadic but just enough to pass one and other, I could tell that he wanted to beat me and I definitely wanted to beat him, but when we made the streets of Chamonix we agreed to finish together. I’ve experienced the finish before and it’s s-p-e-c-t-a-c-u-l-a-r.

It’s about 3-5 deep for the final 1km.
You look like shit, mud all over you but you know whatever you did to get there, it was worth it!
Impossible to explain nor will I try.
But I did learn something out there and to refer back to Bernard Moitessier, patrticipating in these events are not about racing but they are about running.

I had made the loop again for 2017, Emma finished soon after and then, Jennie Sharland Riggs who deserves a special mention. She had battled out the race and came within 8 minutes of cut off only to finish 2 hours ahead of cut off.
Complete respect to her as she did it all by herself, pure heart!

Things are never the same once you finish UTMB, you think about all the sacrifices you and made to get you to the finish It truly is the greatest pain you ever feel.
No better way to spend 43 hours 🙂

Now 3 weeks on, UTMB2017 is forever in the memory banks.

 

Questions and answers

Which was harder the 2015 or 2017 ?
I’ve really thought about this, Statistics will tell you differently as 2015 had a higher withdrawal rate. But I would have to say 2017 for me but only just and only because of the conditions.

Would I do it again?
In a heartbeat

Coach or no coach?
Ideally coach, and definitely a coach for your first try.

(I didn’t have one for 2017)
Typical training week.

Mon: Nothing

Tue: (morn) Strength (night) Tempo run

Wed: (Morn) Stairs

Thu: (morn) Hill reps ronald park (night) stregth

Fri: Nothing

Sat: Long run

Sun: recovery run

 

My average k’s during the 12 month block of training (excluding taper) was 63k’s and my longest week was 104k’s

 

What would I change?

I would just change my final long run to: from to 8 hours early morning to Friday night starting at 9ish 10ish and going until sunrise up and down kedumba and Mt Solitary. It doesn’t matter how much you save yourself for the final half, you still need to be able to put it in the action.

(My lack of training with minimal sleep almost brought my race undone)

 

 

 

 

 

UTMB 100 Miles 2017 Bruce Craven -Guest Post

Firstly, thanks to Adam Connor for hosting this UTMB blog on his running+music website.  It might mean someone actually reads it!  Adam describes himself as forty something, which I can’t do any longer, and has just run the 135 mile Badwater race across Death Valley, so my UTMB efforts pale in comparison.

(Editors note- I’ll have to update the blog if it says 40 something, and there is a reason I chose Badwater over UTMB- I suck at climbing hills!)

 

Its exactly a week since I crossed the finish line of the 100 mile UTMB race in 42 hours 13 mins to complete a burning goal that had been sizzling for 3 years. Why write this?

1.  To remind myself why I might not want to attempt it again
2.  To help others achieve their goal and
3. To unload some emotions that built up for a while and are still rumbling around.

 

This race crept up on me via one of my Sydney running friends, Tanya Carroll.  Tanya was training for this race in 2015 when I was training for the 100km UTA in the Blue Mountains.  I didn’t know much about UTMB at the time but I, along with many others, followed her training and finally the race itself via the online updates and video.  She had photos with Kilian Jornet, pictures of really high mountains, glaciers, cable cars, the best runners from all over the world, it went on and on.  Once I read more about it, I wanted to know more.  How do you get into this race.?  Could I do it?  Probably not was my thinking at the time.  Let’s just stick to the Blue Mountains.

 

For the uninitiated, UTMB requires the equivalent of 3 qualification races of over 100km to be completed by an entrant within 2 years.  Each race needs to be under a certain cut-off time.  With the points from the races under your belt, you apply in Dec, find out if you are successful in the ballot in Jan and if lucky, you get to race in August.   Most miss out in their initial entry.  UTMB (Ultra Trail Mont Blanc) itself probably doesn’t need any introduction – 100 miles through 3 countries (France, Italy and Switzerland and back to France) with 10,000 metres of ascent and because we start and finish in Chamonix, there is also 10,000 metres of descent.

 

My qualifiers were UTA 2014 (100km), UTA 2015 (100km) and then a 113km race I did in Italy in Sep15.  This was called Morenic Trail in the foothills of the Italian alps just north of Turin.  I had planned on running GNW (a local qualifying race north of Sydney) and I had trained with my running colleagues on the GNW course.  However, a sailing holiday meant I couldn’t do the race and the cut-off time for UTMB entries was approaching.  Thus I found the Italian race which I could tack on to the end of my Greek sailing holiday.  The 10 days on the boat were during my taper and involved a lot of drinking.  Evidently that didn’t hurt my race and perhaps the enforced rest helped.  I was one of 2 english speakers in the race so they held a separate race briefing for the 2 of us.  Totally weird.  And at the finish line you douse yourself in red paint (a tradition).    See below.

 

 

Anyway, I had my qualifiers and the bunch of us NRG’ers in Sydney entered UTMB as a group (we would either all miss out or all get in – together).  As is the case for many people around the world, we missed out for the 2016 intake.  They take 2,500 people into the race each year but many multiples of this number apply (all with appropriate qualifiers).  So, having missed out, this meant one of my races in 2014 was no longer current and I had to re-qualify via UTA 2016 (another 100km).  And to make things even more interesting, I moved with work across to London in Sep 16 2016.

 

I know I haven’t got to the race yet but bear with me.  Just getting to the start line of UTMB is a massive effort in itself.  We then re-applied as a group in Dec 16 and this time we were successful.  Yessssss!  Finally!   Gulp!  What now?  (By the way, I think this is the largest group entry ever into UTMB from anywhere in the world).   Not only did we have our initial group but other Sydney running friends who were successful on entry joined our group chat and the size of our Aussie contingent grew.

 

This meant it was becoming real and I would need to train towards the race on 1 Sep 17.  I had 8 months!  However, reality dawned on me in January as I realised:

  1. I was alone in London as all my running buddies were in Sydney
  2. London is what you might call a flat track. How on earth was I going to get fit for the alps?
  3. Also, stupidly, in December I had been training for the London marathon and doing some intervals on cold legs which lead to straining a hamstring (first time ever). I should never have been surprised about hamstring problems because I only have about ¾ of each hamstring intact.   Two ACL knee reconstructions many years ago used both hamstrings  for the new knee tendon leaving me with depleted hammies.

 

It was a low point after the excitement of getting an entry and I wondered if I could even start any proper training.  Perhaps I would have to pull out of UTMB already?

 

I used the down time to attend a day-long seminar in February that a running company called XNRG ran just outside London.  Probably 30 people attended from the UK, all of whom were either entered into, or thinking about entering UTMB.  A group of pro runners gave talks about how to train, gear recommendations, the course itself, strategy, etc etc.  It was great for a lot of us newbies.  And it was during these talks that I realised I needed a coach if I was going to be serious about preparing.  I met Robbie Britton (appropriate surname) who is one of the top British ultra marathoners and Robbie recommended an Australian mate of his who could coach me – Majell Backhausen.  Majell is a world class mountain runner, had completed UTMB in 2015 in just over 25 hours and 22nd place, and knew the problems of training in a flat landscape.  Majell lived in Melbourne but our discussions and training interaction were all online from that point onwards.  I used a trip back to Australia in April for a wedding to meet up with Majell for a face to face chat as well.

 

And so it began.  The hamstring was healing up very slowly and I was able to begin some slow running in March/April.  The London marathon came and went.   I knew I had to complete it given my charity sponsorship and although I finished, it was a lot of slow jogging and walking in just under 5 hours.  So now it was late April and Majell had been adjusting my training to take into account my hamstring recovery.  It meant a lot of hiking uphill on the treadmill, spin classes, a lot of gym work but not much pure running.  By May my leg was better for running and the program picked up.  I was training a couple of times a day before work, lunch time or evening.  I was riding to work and weekends were spent outside London if possible wherever I could find hills.  The last half of June involved sailing for 2 weeks in Croatia but I made sure I ran for a couple of hours every morning before sailing and began clocking up some serious metres of ascent and descent.

 

It had now reached July and the race was getting seriously close.  I managed to get a weekend to the Peak District and Catherine was hiking whilst I ran into the mountains.   Lots of km and metres of ascent and descent on muddy single track which was ideal.  In one of my best decisions, a few months earlier I had booked an organised trip to run around the UTMB course over 4 days with a French group.  A couple of pro runners took a group of 12 of us around the trails and we slept each night in refuges in a single room with 12 bunks.  They were all French, including the pro runners, apart from Elaine who was from London, so the 2 of us would need translation of whatever was being communicated on the trail.   But we all got on very well and would re-group often to allow for different pace groups.  So approx. 40-50km of running each day with 2500 metres of ascent and descent daily.  Not only did I get to pound the legs for 4 continuous days (something I hadn’t done before), but importantly, I got to see the whole course in daylight.  Before that I had no idea what to expect from climbing a true alpine mountain.  Now I knew it was seriously hard but I found I wasn’t scared of it any more.  I knew I could do it.

 

 

However, (and this must be the old age), when I woke up on the 4th day, my achilles was quite sore.  Not enough to stop me completing day.4, but it meant I couldn’t push off the left leg as much.  Thus running on the flats was harder than climbing a steep gradient that used the quads more.  Hopefully this niggle would go away!  Upon returning to London, I went to Wales with Catherine the next weekend and she did more hiking whilst I hobbled and propped my way around Pen-Y-Fan mountain.  I found I could climb mountains really well and run downhill without inflaming the achilles, but running on the flats was out.

 

A few more weeks back in London was spent going to the physio to try and fix the achilles, doing spin, strengthening gym work and lots of work on the treadmill without inflaming the damn achilles.  Could I just buy a new achilles?  Could I really get to this race?  By race week it had calmed down and I was hoping it would hold up over the race if I didn’t push it too much.

 

It was now race week and the Aussies were gathering in Chamonix early on to try and get over the jet lag.  My 90 min flight from London meant an easy commute and I arrived on the Wed night.  My wife Catherine and 3 of her friends had been hiking the Mont Blanc route (TMB) over 10 previous days and Cath and Danae (who were to be my crew) met me at the hotel that night.  Without realising, we had booked a room overlooking the start and finish line of UTMB which turned out to be both a blessing (views, photos, atmosphere) and a curse (noise of loudspeakers and music day and night given some other shorter distance races were occurring on Wed and Thurs nights).

 

I had mentioned in a post on Fbook that I was both excited and nervous.  The nervousness was really unavoidable given the huge build up to this race but also because I had never run further than 113km and had only run through one night.  So I hadn’t done a “miler” (100 mile race).  Here I was about to embark on 170km over 2 nights and 2 days.  I knew the course in the daylight, but how would I go at night?  Would my achilles hold up?  What about food and nutrition?  I had read so many blogs of people not coping with stomach problems, the cold, tiredness, injuries – the list went on.  People who came to the race, climbed the first mountain and decided there was no way they could get through!  To top it off, the course organisers announced that the weather was going to be a problem this year and some course adjustments were needed given that it was forecast to be minus 9c in the high passes.  Wow.  This also meant cut-off times at checkpoints were changing and my race plan needed some adjustments.  Yes – I did have a plan which was based on the averages of some friends who had run before and runners from last year who finished around the 44 hour mark.  The race cut-off is 46.5 hours but along the way, each of the checkpoints has its own specific cut-off and race organisers will allow no discussion on removing a runner who doesn’t make it in time.  Each year approx. 1/3 of the runners who start do not finish, some from injuries, but many who just can’t get through the checkpoints in time.

 

(Side note – I met a guy from NY after the race.  This was his 2nd attempt.  He failed last year after 150km as his feet were so badly chopped up.  This year he came to the checkpoint at Trient (142km).  He had 15 mins before checkpoint cut-off time.  He needed to eat and drink and warm up.  He spent 14 minutes doing this and walked out of the checkpoint 1 minute before cut-off.  All good.  Except …. he had dropped his headlamp under the table inside the tent.  Bugger – so he turned around and went back in to get it.  At that point the clock ticked over cut-off time.  As he leant down to get his light, the official lent over and cut off his number.  Game over.  Out of the race.  Heart-broken and no arguments allowed.  He had to wait for a bus to get back to Chamonix – he saw me in my finishers gilet on the Sunday and he looked like he was about to cry.)

 

Friday was race day but strangely the race was not going to start until 6.30pm.  I had always started races first thing in the morning.  What to do all day?  What to eat?  How to rest?  As my hotel was right above the start line, I could see runners beginning to position themselves at the start line – 5 hours before the race!!   What on earth?  They were sitting on hard concrete in their race gear ready to go.  I have no idea if they finished the race but this preparation was not going to help them!

 

 

I had spent time on Thursday catching up with all my Sydney running mates, getting my compulsory gear checked, shopping at the UTMB expo (every running company around the world had a stall there which was fantastic), and just taking in the atmosphere.  Other races such as OCC, CCC and TDS were taking place and some of our running colleagues from Australia were taking part.  So there was always something going on to occupy time.  And meanwhile you watched the weather and could tell it was deteriorating after having been so nice for weeks.  Typical.

 

My race gear had been adapted over months.  Lots of testing of different gear and changing what needed to be changed.  I had moved to Altra shoes to allow more room for my feet which was a great decision and meant my feet and toes were not getting bashed up as much.  I had trained extensively with poles in the mountains and each time I ran outside London, I would take exactly what I planned taking on race day with all gear and nutrition.  This meant quite a bit of weight.  Not sure the exact tonnage but it certainly felt like tonnes rather than kilograms.  Majell’s training program had also prepared me for the climbs.  In fact I was looking forward to the ascents.  I don’t want to give away his trade secrets but the use of the treadmill for hours and hours at slow speeds but high gradients was all part of it.

 

Friday 6pm and I finally came downstairs from the hotel.  The place was absolutely packed already.  All the Aussies met just near the church and we had a few last photos before merging into the masses for the countdown.

 

 

(Note we are missing couple people including Jen and Marty)

 

The music, the slow capping, the atmosphere …. this was why we had spent years getting here.  It is absolutely unbelievable.   There is a photo of me at the start and I look quite calm.  And I was.  I had played out in my mind each of the race sections and I knew how I wanted to approach them.  I had worked through with Cath and Danae what I needed in each checkpoint and they were all primed for the nights and days ahead.  The one section I was apprehensive about was the first 8km to Les Houches as it was flat and required a fast running pace – something that I hadn’t been able to do for weeks.

 

 

The mass start and our position near the back meant it took a while to get over the start line, and then we were walking/half jogging for a couple of kilometres, lapping up the cheers and hand slaps from the crowd on the way out of Chamonix.  I was running along with Tanya, Emma, Russell and Geoff at this stage and then we caught up to Jen and Marty who had started a bit further ahead in the crowd.  I couldn’t think of a better place to share the trails with my friends from Australia and we all had Aussie flags, boxing kangaroos and koalas to show off our Aussie roots.  And as the pace picked up and the runners spread out, I was quietly hoping the achilles would stay quiet.  The slowish start was not a problem – one of the biggest errors is to go out too hard in this race.  It really doesn’t get going until after Courmayeur (80km) and some say not until Champex-Lac (126km).

 

I had expected the congestion of runners to ease off by the time we started climbing from Les Houches, up to Le Delevret (900m) and back down to Saint Gervais where the first checkpoint is.  But it didn’t.  It was packed and at times you came to a complete stop in single file.  Darkness arrived and still we were stopping and starting as the crowd ebbed and flowed through difficult parts of the trail.  I couldn’t believe it really.  How long is this going to go on for?  But inwardly I thought perhaps this is a good thing.  Enforced rest.  Just go with the flow.  And I used the time to sip on my Tailwind nutrition and relax.  Geoff and Russell had moved off ahead and Emma was nearby whilst Tanya, Jen and Marty had fallen behind.  Tanya came past at one point as she loves the downhills and the race started to play out as we went through a minor checkpoint in Saint Gervais (21km).  This was a fast stop – fill up water but keep going – no crew allowed.

 

Exiting the checkpoint, it was still early and runners were everywhere and a slow jog was the order of the day.  There are some rolling hills and a gradual incline towards the first major checkpoint at Les Contamines, and it was in this section that I could feel my achilles calling.  Bugger.  It had behaved so far but this section was the worst gradient for it requiring a slow uphill jog, pretty much designed to inflame an achilles.  In the space of 5 minutes I went from feeling comfortable and relaxed and focused, to thinking, I don’t think I can get through another 145km with an achilles that is starting to hurt.  So I slowed down again and did some run/walk for a bit.  And I then started working out how I would tell my friends and family that 3 years of hard work had only allowed me to get through 25km of the race.  Swear words here *&#$%%*.   Thus it was that I entered the major checkpoint at Les Contamines (31km) to meet my crew.  It was great seeing Cath and Danae but they could tell something was wrong.  Explaining that my achilles was playing up, we had a quick chat and Catherine whipped out 2 panadol.  We decided that I would just keep going and see what happened.  I topped up my nutrition and took the chance to munch on salami, cheese and drink some soup.  My pre-race coaching advice had been to always grab food whenever it is on offer, and thus I ate more than I would have in any prior races.

 

 

Heading out of Les Contamines, there is a massive long climb for 1300 metres over 13km.  It was still crazy with congestion and we were in a long single file, unable to pass people and stuck at whatever pace the slowest runner was going.  It was extremely muddy, slippery and steep and I loved it.  The pace was slow which gave me time for the Panadol to kick in, the climbing suited me and I was using my quads mostly which gave the achilles a rest.  After a while I didn’t notice the achilles and as the crowds around me thinned out, I was passing people.  We went through a minor checkpoint at La Balme and once again, I ate and drank soup and soon I was ploughing downhill through the mud and heading towards Les Chapieux (50km).  I felt good.  I was still passing people and at the checkpoint I once again topped up food and soup.  I didn’t have crew here as it was very difficult to get to.  I knew from here it was a long slow climb to one of the high passes in the race but it was a section that I loved in training and I was looking forward to it (can you believe that?).   It was also in this checkpoint at Les Chapieux that I noticed a huge number of people just sitting and staying warm in the tent.  I stood shoulder to shoulder with other runners and then sat for 2 minutes to finish my soup and then I exited.   Most people who were in there when I arrived were still there when I left.  I had eaten, topped up drinks, topped up nutrition in my bladder, had some soup.  What else did I need to do?  Nothing.  Get going.  Why sit around?  The mass of humanity in that tent also reminded me that what we experience in the checkpoints is a lot different than the leading runners who have a table each with all their gear laid out and everything provided.  We were shoulder to shoulder like standing room at a footy match.

 

On the section to Col de la Seigne, it was another 1,000 metre climb.  You get used to them.  That is the typical ascent for each of the climbs.  It was early hours of Saturday morning and I knew dawn would arrive somewhere along this section.  It was beautiful.  Looking ahead towards the Col, you could see the long line of lights on the switch backs and I was once again passing a lot of people.  I wasn’t tired and my achilles was not bothering me and I felt like I was flying up that hill.  Dawn arrived just before I reached the Col so I got the silhouette of the top of the mountains as I looked east.  Fantastic.  Worth racing just for this.  However the clouds soon arrived and as I reached the top of the Col, it was suddenly snowing.  Not too cold as it was light snow but I still put on the warm gear and I prepared for a long descent to Lac Combal.

 

I have a photo below from my training run that shows this section in daylight.  It is amazing and such a pity that so many runners never get to see it.

 

 

 

Once again I flew down from the Col here as the knees were ok (at this stage).  Runners were becoming more and more sparse as I went on (perhaps they were all still back in that tent!) and I would see a runner ahead and try and pick them off as I descended to Lac Combal (67km).  I topped up food, drinks, nutrition here, sat for a few minutes to have some soup and then got out of there – once again no crew here.  I was well ahead now of the cut-off time and that gave me quite a bit of confidence.  I haven’t mentioned any of the other Aussies and that is because I hadn’t seen them since before checkpoint 1.   I assumed they were ahead of me and hoped they were all going well.

 

It was fully light now and heating up as I went up another climb via Arete du Mont Favre and Col Checroutt Maison Vielle (75km).  I had pasta at one of these checkpoints and filled up on drinks etc .  And as it was very runnable on the descents, I pushed along quite quickly (for me).  Still passing people and still feeling good.  Courmayeur (80km) approached where I would meet my crew and I had a lot of time up my sleave in terms of cutoff times.

 

Courmayeur was mid morning and it was warm outside when I went in.  I didn’t linger here either.  Grabbed food, changed clothes, topped up nutrition, re-applied Gurney Goo, but basically got out of there.  22 minutes I think I was there.  Still time to do everything.  But it was here also that I noticed hundreds of people sitting around.  I think I went in and out before half of them had moved.   Farewelling my crew I knew the next sections would be tough, partly because I wouldn’t see my crew for nearly 12 hours, and partly because I could see the weather was getting worse.

 

The climb up to Refuge Bertone (800metres) was fine and I had enjoyed it in training.  However the section through the rolling ups and downs along the bluff to Refuge Bonatti (92km) was hard.  I didn’t quite have the strength to attack it like I did in the training run but I kept up a steady slowish pace.  Noone else seemed to be going any quicker so that gave me some comfort.  The temperature seemed to be dropping and at the checkpoint, it once again started snowing.  This was a concern.   We were at 2,025 metres and I knew we had to climb over Grand Col Ferret at over 2,500 metres.  I saw a lot of worried faces at that checkpoint.  It was an outside checkpoint so no one was hanging around in the cold, but everyone was taking time to get every piece of emergency clothing on.  It took me 10 minutes to sort all that out whilst trying to eat and drink at the same time.  The downhill section to Arnouvaz (97km) was hugely challenging as it was extremely muddy with no footholds.  It was like skiing downhill on a steep single trail and hoping you stayed upright.

 

The tent at Arnouvaz was warm and I could tell no one really wanted to exit.  I knew it was a trap to stay in there.  Walking outside was uncomfortable and we were at 1700 metres with an 800m climb to come.  Visibility was not good and the rain and sleet were coming directly into your face.  It was mid afternoon but quite dark.  I knew it was a long way until I saw crew again and I think for many people, there was a huge temptation to exit the race at this point.  In fact, part of my mind was wondering how bad it could get before race organisers would shut it down.  And strangely this pushed me on, because I knew if I could get over this pass, then the other side was less exposed to the weather.

 

The climb was very tough.  Once again, this was a climb in training that I powered up, but not today.  It was pretty slow and a real slog.  Not many runners about and as you climbed higher, you were more and more exposed to what became a blizzard.  There was no way to protect your face as the the wind was head-on, and all the ground and bushes about you were frozen with sleet.  I didn’t have time to take photos but I wish I did.  And as I came towards the top, I saw a race organiser in a massive parka coming out of the murk yelling “Allez Allez Allez”.  Why is he shouting to hurry up?  I honestly thought he was hurrying me up because they were about to shut it down.  If you got over the top your race would go on and if you didn’t, they might bus you back from the previous checkpoint – race over.  So I found a third wind and pushed hard over the top.  It was quite frightening up there – dark, blowing a gale, sleet in the face, and I thought if you stopped up here for too long you would freeze very quickly.  It was definitely minus 9c here.  Quite brave for the organisers to let us go through it I thought.

 

Over the top and huge relief.   Long downhill runnable sections now towards La Fouly (111km) and thankfully out of the wind.  But a long way until the checkpoint.  Too long I thought!  They needed another checkpoint somewhere in-between and in training there was a Refuge (La Peule) along the way.  But it was closed.  Damn.  Most people were pretty cold and pretty stuffed along here.  In training it was a fast section but not today.  Late afternoon and you knew another night beckoned.  Another low point for me and I imagine others too.

 

At La Fouly, I went in alone as I had arranged for my crew to meet me at Champex Lac (126km).  At La Fouly you could see a lot of people who just needed to recover.  So no one was leaving.  I grabbed food, drank soup and didn’t stay long.  I was warm enough and I wanted to get to Champex Lac (another 14km).  We had to leave with lights on our heads as darkness was approaching.  A lot of runnable sections again if your legs and knees were up to it.  I probably lost a few places along here but I knew I’d made up a lot with people who were still in the warm tent at La Fouly.  Just to help things it was bucketing rain for the next 10km and it was a tough climb to Champex Lac.  I neither gained nor lost places along here but as I moved along, I was forming a plan to take a 20 min nap at the next checkpoint.  People were sleeping along the trail as I went (in rain??) and I thought I would far rather get a mattress in a warm tent.  I also knew my crew could wake me if needed.  Seeing Cath and Danae at Champex Lac was fantastic and they were excited to see me to break their boredom.

 

First thing I said was that I’m going for a nap.  Another 20 mins of boredom for them!  As I lay down and pulled a blanket over my head, I heard an Aussie accent 2 mattresses along!  Hahahha.  It was Emma just getting up from a nap.  And there was Russell standing in front of me!  They were heading out and asked if I wanted to join them.  I told them to go ahead as I need to rest and eat.  How fantastic to see them and as I lay there, I thought quite strange that I had run into them as I had assumed they were miles ahead.

 

I didn’t sleep at all as my legs were too sore, but getting off my feet was good.  Suitably fed and with nutrition topped up, I went out into the 2nd night again somewhere around 11.30pm.    Probably 40 mins after I had seen Emma and Russell.   The next section has a nice runnable downhill leg before a steep and difficult climb up 1,000 metres and back down the same metres again to Trient.  It was tough in training and it was going to be tough on the 2nd night.  The rain had stopped but it was muddy and the trail was covered with loose rocks and tree roots.  I climbed well again and soon I had caught up to a group of runners (runners were very sparse on the course now).  And there was that Aussie accent again.  Emma and Russell and a group of others.  I said hi but didn’t hang around as I was moving along well and so passed the group on the downhill section.

 

Trient (142km) and Vallorcine (153km) checkpoints came and went.  I met Cath and Danae at both.  Constantly fuelling up and feeling pretty confident.  More climbs, less runners, and kilometres and ascents/descents ticking by.  The light came up in the next section and I knew I was headed to a good time.  I had trained on the high Col des Montets section of the race and I loved it.  However the organisers had cut it out for safety and introduced similar ascent/descent and distance but all at lower altitude.  As I’ve read from some of the leading runners, most people think the new section introduced was harder than the original.  And I agree. It was very technical and on tired legs, very difficult to traverse.  It did feel like we were getting no closer to the finish in what seemed like a maze of ups and downs and back and forths.

 

It wasn’t until I made it to La Flegere (163km) that I was back on familiar ground again.  And then I knew the last downhill 8km section would be very hard on my knees.  But I thought stuff it, they can recover later, and I ran as hard as I could.  It started to heat up (temperature and emotions) as I headed down into Chamonix and it was only just before midday.  Originally I was very worried about final cut-off times (around 4.30pm) but these fears proved unfounded.  So I was very tired, very sore but floating really.  So happy.

 

Emerging from the forest in Chamonix was amazing.  Crowds were building along the course as I was lucky to be finishing at a peak time in the day.  Some of my faster friends were finishing in the early hours of the morning with obviously less supporters.  I ran as hard as I could through the town and saw Catherine and Danae, grabbed a flag and then turned the corner into the main straight and finish line.  Without knowing it Marty was running behind me taking a video which is great to look back on.  An absolute emotional high going through Chamonix and a feeling I will never forget.  And a time just over 42 hours that I’m very proud of. I was especially proud to gain places through the whole race going from over 2,000th to 1040th at the end.  This fit with my race plan.  I can say that once over the finish line the achilles decided enough was enough and it remains sore a week later.  But who cares!

 

Nearly all my Aussie running buddies made it and those who didn’t will be back for more I think.

 

 

 

 

So many thanks to Catherine and Danae for crewing and to Cath for putting up with months (years!) of preparation.  My coach (Majell) deserves a special mention because my training was very specific for this race and it proved to be invaluable.

 

Gear / nutrition / suggestions?

  • Trail shoes with incredible grip
  • Shoes that fit perfectly – any hot spots in training will multiply in the race (losing toe nails? Go up a size)
  • Perhaps wear a wind proof top and a rain jacket over the top with a medium mid layer warm top. Gives more flexibility on layering than one warm top and one jacket.
  • Nutrition, nutrition, nutrition – the gaps between checkpoints make it difficult to replenish but you can’t survive on the food from the checkpoints alone
  • Get crew if you can
  • Practice in training with every single piece of gear that you intend taking
  • Practice with poles
  • Guard against chafing
  • Get a good light and train with it
  • Prepare a race plan
  • Find a coach who knows UTMB
  • Use the checkpoints for what you need but don’t hang around
  • Take a nap on the 2nd night – but no longer than 20 mins

 

Good luck.  It’s worth it.  What a blast!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

UTA100 2017 Guest Report- Sarah Connor

#UTA2017 Race Report.

(Disclaimer – I have still only had 3 hours sleep so pardon the swearing).

It was very fucking hard. The end..

Yeah right – thought you would get away with a short report! Ha! Never.

 

The race had course changes due to the weather this year. I was very Zen about it (very un-like me) as you cant control the weather or decisions that the RD’s and the authorities need to make to keep people safe.

 

It was cold and wet when we started, but eventually it became beautiful and sunny and clear. The night was perfect running weather.

I stuck to my race plan that Andy had sent me – slow in the first half and concentrate on passing others in the second half.

Start to CP 1 – just went with the flow –

The landslide had a conga line, but it was a chance to eat and rest.

CP1 – CP2

Tarros Ladders – there was a 10-15 minute wait just to get down to the ladders. I get vertigo, so opted to go around on the diversion track, which turned out to be the same time. Plus I had warmed up again.

The 50k men’s pointy end of the race tore past us just after Tarros ladders. Holy shit they can move.

The didgeridoo players were just before CP 2 – this was one of the only reasons I wanted to do this race, to hear them play in the race. Chills down my spine hearing them. So cool! Had a headache that was getting worse, but could not get any pain relief until CP 3 so had to suck it up.

CP2 – CP3

Had a really low spot because of said headache, running along Megalong Valley Road. Was hanging for the CP for panadol and my running poles.

CP 3 was a good quick transition.

CP3 – CP4

Left the checkpoint with Jen and Ingrid, which was lovely. (No cows in the field this time). Ingrid and I hiked up to Nellies Glen together. It was hard work, but everyone else was suffering too! Heard some interesting burps…. So decided to rate them – as you do when you need to keep occupied. Some random lady in a blue onesie was handing out choc chip cookies just before CP 4 – oh they were awesome. Going to have those again in a race!

 

CP4 – CP5

Ingrid’s support crew of Bek, Janis and Sharon helping me out with massages and checking that I had what I needed made transition easier. Thank you ladies!

 

Now this is when I knew it would be tough. The course changes affected from CP4 – finish. I was heading towards the longest distance I had ever run, and was not sure how my body would cope. Left the CP very positive and moving in the right direction. Sunset was happening just as I came around Echo Point, so the views were spectacular.

Came into Gordon Falls Reserve and got the best group hug ever from Bek, Janis and Sharon- seriously that was awesome!

Hailey and Roger, said that they would meet me on course – and there they were at Gordon Falls Reserve with liquid black gold – a can of coke. My ITB was beginning to act up, Roger gave me some tips on how to deal with it and off I went into the darkness.

Ran into Tim somewhere out the back of the golf course and he walked up with me back to his car and we had a great chat.

There were runners coming from both directions and I felt obliged to let the faster ones who were returning from the out and back loop, go past first. I think this slowed me up quite a bit having to always get off the track.

Coming out of Wentworth Falls, I had been looking out for Adam (actually looking for his trail gaiters as I was looking at the ground most of the time) and I found him! It was lovely to see him and get a hug.

Then it was the slog down the road to CP5.  It was at this point (apx 72-73k), that I knew I would be reduced to walking the rest of the way, due to my left ITB, so I made sure I was really power hiking and not just walking.

 

I could hear the CP before I got to it and was really looking forward to sitting down! Except when I got there, there was a 3k out and back before you could enter the CP. There were many swear words at this point. That was mentally tough. So I sucked it up and got it done.

The Summit Sister cheer squad were there and it was lovely to hear them! Saw a snake crossing the road. Yes a snake, it was 8C.

Sally met me at the CP and looked after me very well and made sure I was compos mentis. I was very surprised to find that I was 2 hours ahead of schedule. Threw on my warm clothes, my toes were aching, but there was nothing I could do, so gave them a quick massage and walked off into the night.

I spent most of this leg by myself, which suited me just fine.

Then my headlight died with about 8k to go.  I had forgotten to check my back up light batteries, but it was working so I dropped it to low lumens to conserve the batteries and kept moving. I had forgotten to pack spare batteries into my pack at CP 5. I turned my phone to flight mode, to conserve its battery so that I could use the torch I my phone if needed.

The stairs were horrid. I could only go down diagonally with the right foot first and am now sporting a large blister on my left foot.

I have never been so glad to see Leura Forest. It was then 4.8k of just slogging it out. Furber stairs were hard. There were a few tears shed here.

You can hear the finish line before you can see it. It’s torture. Roger was working the microphone at this point, and when my name was announced, he started up a cheer, which I could hear but legs just would not work. Eventually after the last 5 stairs, my brain engaged that it was the finish and people were waiting for me, so I started a jog and eventually crossed the line in 21hours and 6 mins.  It was just after 4am (I had no idea of real time as my watch died at 76k) and I was not looking at my phone. It was so lovely to have people I knew around me.

More tears were shed, Roger has video that is not repeatable here, which basically said I’m never doing it again. Nothing could top that experience.

I felt in the early stages of the race that I could go under 20 hours. Apparently I was on track for that most of the day, but was de-railed once the legs died. I think with a longer training base, it would have been achievable for me, even with the extra stairs.

 

Now for the bit that is most important. I would like to thank (and in no particular order) the people below for helping me to achieve my goal.

 

Andy DuBois of Mile 27 – 10 weeks ago, after Tarawera Ultra, I contacted Andy for coaching and he got me to this race. I can’t thank you enough. The training you set me, made a hell of difference.

Mile27

Garry Luke of Muscle Therapy Australia – best masseuse ever!

Muscle Therapy Australia

Kathy Widjaja of Aequilibrium – all those body movement classes – my glutes thank you!

Dr Adrienne Leahy of Spine and Health Crows Nest – my spine thanks you!

Spine and Health Crows Nest

Paula Shingler of Running Right – last minute physio and scones and jam and cream really helped.

 

Julie – my running partner and therapist.

Cass – Friday mornings have improved out of sight thanks to world peace and coffee.

Summit Sisters community – you all rock!

Bek, Janis, Sharon and Sally – you are the best support crewers ever.

Hailey – for the texts and the liquid black gold AKA Coke.

Roger – the shiatsu massage really unlocked my back – it was the best. Can I have another one please?

AROC Sport – without you guys, this legendary race would never exist. Thanks for the superb organisation, in what would have been one of the hardest situations to work in this year. Your volunteers and staff are the best.

My friends and family who all support from near and far via Facebook .

And finally, my husband Adam and son, Alex. Thanks for putting up with me, early mornings, early nights and a sometimes tired and crabby wife and mother.

 

What I wore

Summit Sisters t-shirt

Moving comfort bra

Fabletics ¾ pants with handy pockets down the sides of the legs.

Zensah calf guards

Feetures socks

Hoka Stinson 3 ATR’s

Patagonia cap

Buff’s of varying different styles

Patagonia R1 fleece jacket

Salmon Bonatti waterproof jacket

Nathan Vapour wrap pack

(Sheesh I’m not very loyal to one brand am I?)

 

What I ate from my pack

Carmen’s muesli bars – mostly the more nutty ones

Chicken in a biscuit

BBQ shapes

Clif bar

Chips

Farex pre-made baby food

 

From CP 2 I had Nuun or Hydralyte in my water.

Panadol osteo at CP3 and after CP 5 – said headache was gone with about 13k to go …

From the checkpoints – Banana, watermelon, soup, bread, cheese and ham scrolls, a lolly, a chocolate chip biscuit, a bit of brownie, pot noodles, a chocolate bar from a random runner at a CP, coke, black coffee with 1 at the Fairmont , chips.

 

Recovery (so far its 24 hours in)

2 magnesium tablets before the race

Soup and chocolate milk at the finish

Blister popped at First Aid so I did not have to deal with it

Shower as soon as possible

Sleep for an hour – gentle rolling with the stick

Trying to move normally rather than the ultra lurch

Car drive home – stayed awake and kept my legs in different positions

Warm Epsom salt bath and then icing the knee

More good food and some chocolate

9 hours sleep – means I’m awake at 3am but hey that’s when all the best race reports are written.