Adventures in Wonderland

"Tut, tut, child!" said the Duchess. "Everything's got a moral, if only you can find it."

        - Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

So, what was the moral of the inaugural Wonderland Run? Well, more on that later, but firstly, for the uninitiated, the Wonderland Run is the latest trail run/community event/social media extravaganza put on by Big Long Run, aka Rohan Day and his band of merry men and women. That is, the people who brought us the Two Bays Trail Run and, until recently, the Roller Coaster Run (now with Mountain Sports). For Wonderland, Rohan was ably inspired and assisted by the well known and respected trail runner (amongst other things) Matt Bell.

 The incomparable Rohan Day (Mad Hatter) and Matt Bell (White Rabbit)

([Amazing] Photo credit: Tamsin Bearsley)

You can get the details of the run on the website here, but essentially, this was the inaugural running of the event and comprised two main races: a 36km and a 20km trail run through the Grampians (Gariwerd) National Park, based in the regional town of Halls Gap. And boy, did the town get behind this run! Cafes, restaurants, caravan parks, adventure gear stores, all got in on the action and welcomed around 400 runners and their families to their town.

I was sharing a house with a group of fellow Dandenongs Trail Runners and my long time friend Ruth. We'd all arrived on the Saturday, just in time to see DTR Narelle take out first place in the '6 months pregnant' category of Saturday's 8km 'flat' run, in a time that the majority of the Australian populace would only manage on a bike. The Saturday run is just another example of the Big Long Run team just getting it right. It really did seem to set the mood for the weekend and the fact that it was only 8km meant that people of all ages could get involved. 

After a low key Saturday night at the house, making pizzas, watching footy and drinking a couple of beers (you can see I take my pre-race nutrition seriously), race day dawned. It was warmer than I had anticipated, but after a lot of thought I still decided to wear my thermal top. I jogged the 2km to the start line as a warm up and as luck would have it, I bumped into fellow DTRs Cameron and Richard on the way.

DTR ready to go!

(Photo credit: Peter Mitchell)

The warm up had only increased my confusion about whether to wear the thermal or leave it with the rest of my mandatory gear which was being transported to the Mt Rosea carpark. I decided to wear it, concerned about the potential temperature difference between Halls Gap (240m altitude) and the higher reaches of the course (800-1000m).

The last thing to do was to drop my two 500ml bottles in the special needs box to go to the 21km aid station. Now, where was that box? I found Matt Bell, who advised me that it had already left! No matter, Matt said, he'd arrange for them to be taken there anyway. Legend! (Try that at your next road event, or even trail event, and see how far you get!)

Before I knew it, we were off and I settled into a reasonably easy rhythm as we started the first climb to the Wonderland carpark and, beyond that, The Pinnacle. (The race took its name from the Wonderland trail, one of the many trails that are found in the National Park.) 

And just after reaching the aid station at the Wonderland carpark, I witnessed something I never thought I would: deliberate, unrepentant, course cutting. 

Soon after exiting the carpark, you take a left on a trail instead of going straight. The five guys ahead of me went straight and the guy behind me called out "left turn guys". I thought to myself how it would be easy to miss the sign, so I held back and prepared to let them through ahead of me. All of them slowed down, then one of them muttered "this way's quicker" and they all kept going! I announced that they could cut the course if they wanted, but I was going left, and I led the rest of the group down the correct trail. 

And you know what? They missed out on one of the best sections of the course, squeezing through rock formations, climbing up steps, being completely immersed in the environment. And you know what else? It couldn't have been that much quicker to go the other way, because when we merged with the other trail, it was just behind the Gang of Five. I again informed them that they'd cut the course and should go back, but they were apathetic, and continued ahead. I was fuming! This is NOT what trail running was all about.

Part of what the cheats missed out on

(Photo credit: Matilda Iglesias)

As I was stewing on this, I was also stewing underneath that damned thermal top. It became too much and I decided to stop and take it off. A few people went past as I peeled off my layers, but it didn't take long and I pressed on towards the Pinnacle, over some rocky and increasingly technical terrain. Once we'd reached the magnificent views from the Pinnacle, there was some nice running down to the Sundial carpark aid station. This particular aid station was marshalled by the famous Mama Two Bays, and they didn't disappoint - you could hear them from more than a kilometre away! I went through Sundial with another DTR keeping me company (Bryan, who was doing the 20km), and then the courses split, with Bryan starting his descent and me heading towards the start of the climb to Mt Rosea.

Approaching the Sundial aid station with Bryan right behind me

(Photo credit: Kate Ablett)

Once you got above 800m, the weather changed dramatically. We were up in the clouds and the rocks we were running across were wet and slippery (as I found out when I tried to overtake a runner and my feet went out from under me and I crashed to the ground). Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour, I settled into a hike with a like-minded runner named Troy, only running every so often when it was safe to do so. This was without doubt the most technical terrain I'd encountered in a race. And if the climb was hard, the first kilometre of the descent was just as bad, with the slippery rocks slowing us down and requiring us to use our hands to shimmy down some of the course.

Rock scrambling on Mt Rosea

(Photo credit: David Hughes)

But the technical stuff soon gave way to a more familiar type of trail and I commenced the 6km descent to the Borough Huts aid station at 21km. I was running at just under 5:00/km pace, wanting to keep a bit in reserve for the final 15km of the race. I soon got to the bottom of the descent and the very welcome sight of another fantastic aid station, complete with a tea party offering cakes and biscuits as well as your more usual runners' fare.

I grabbed my bottles (thanks again, Matt) and headed off for the final 'flat' 15km around Lake Bellfield then back into Halls Gap. I'd ran most of the course on a family holiday here in December and knew (a) what a grind this section was and (b) the location of five horribly steep pinches on a fire trail on the eastern side of the lake. I settled into a sustainable pace exiting the aid station and passed a couple of guys before being passed myself by Tash Fraser, 2nd placed woman in this year's Two Bays ultra. 

On the way to Lake Bellfield

(Photo credit: Matilda Iglesias)

Tash built up a lead of a couple of hundred metres going around the side of the lake and I thought that was that, because she was running strongly (or at least, she was relative to me!). But when we reached the pinches, which hit you one after the other like a set of waves, I noticed myself slowly reeling her in (we were both also passing several others, who had perhaps not realised how hard this section is, relative to how it looks on the profile).

The Wonderland 36km profile.

[The nasty red pinches barely discernible in the foreground]

(Image credit: Les Corson)

I passed through the Brambuk aid station with about 5km to go only 10-20 seconds behind Tash and managed to pass her on one of the small rises on the trail, with maybe 3km to go. Knowing there weren't any hills from then on and that Tash would be running strongly on the flat, I gritted my teeth and pushed hard. I rounded Delley's Bridge at the northern end of the course and from there it was a completely flat bike trail for about 1.5km to the finish line. 

Running hard towards the finish line, I was greeted by three incredibly enthusiastic girls, cheering each runner home. It was a terrific way to conclude the race and I crossed the line in 4:09 with a massive smile on my face.

Finished!

(Photo credit: Tamsin Bearsley)

Ruth, Chris and Narelle were all there with very kind words, as was trail running good guy Ashley Bennett. I asked Ash how he went and he responded "pretty good" and then at Rohan's prompting, stood on the top step of the podium to be presented with his first place prize! So yeah, "pretty good". And here I must pause to note that Ashley stuck around to the end of the race and handed his winner's prize of a voucher for a new pair of shoes to the final person who crossed the line. An absolute class act and that's why Ash is generally regarded as one of the nicest, most humble guys in our trail running community. 

It was whilst I was giving my housemates a debrief that Narelle mentioned that fellow DTR Les had rolled his ankle and pulled from the race. He was over by the first aid tent, ankle strapped, rugged up in warm clothing, talking to another DTR, Andre, who in contrast had destroyed the course with a typical display of mental and physical strength, to finish 9th overall. 

I went over and provided condolences to Les, who was using this event as one of the final lead in races to his shot at redemption in this October's Melbourne marathon. It was August last year that a trail event had done in his other ankle and derailed his marathon plans and now he was experiencing a wicked sense of deja vu. You can read more about Les's Wonderland experience here.

It's occurred to me that I haven't really done justice to the course. For the record, the first half of the course is spectacular, both the views and the trails. The second half is less of a feast for the eyes, but it certainly has its moments (see below) and is a real mental and physical test after putting yourself through the wringer climbing up to 1,000m and back down again. And true to form, the volunteers and aid stations are the best in the business - as with any Big Long Run event. A sincere thanks to the vollies (with a special mention to the incredible photographers) for helping make it such a special day. Put simply, this is a 'must run' event for any trail runner in Victoria. If you're interstate, put it on your list, too, and come see how a trail run should be organised.

Andre rocking it on the 'unspectacular' (cough cough) part of the course

(Photo credit: Lorraine Aitken)

We spent a few hours milling around the finish line, cheering both friends and strangers across the line. It's probably the longest I've ever spent at the finish line post-race and I loved every minute of it. After deliberating with the DTR crew and one of the runners who was with me at the time, I decided I'd report the course cutters to the race organisers. Maybe nothing will come of it, and maybe nothing should (they didn't gain any time, after all), but it came down to principles - they were told they were cutting the course and they didn't care.

Together again

(Photo credit: Cheryl Martin)

And so, the inaugural edition of the Wonderland Run was over. From my point of view, the event was a resounding success. Rohan, Matt and anyone involved in putting the race together should be very proud of themselves. Let's hope the 2016 edition is as well supported as the 2015 race (I'm sure the local businesses would agree!). On a personal level, I was very happy with how I ran (I'm sure the course recce in December helped), but as always, since I'll never challenge the fast guys and girls, it's more about the experience than the finishing position. 

That's all well and good, but are we any closer to finding the moral of Wonderland? I don't think there is one, but I don't say that to disappoint the Duchess. What I mean is, we'll each find our own moral in this tale, and in the many other stories you can find on the Wonderland Facebook page. I can almost imagine an extended Tea Party, with all the characters from Carroll's novel trying to make their voices heard:

"Course cutting must be eradicated!" asserted the Mad Hatter. 

"Trail runners don't dob in other trail runners!", countered the Dormouse. 

"Start steady, finish strong!", advised the Mock Turtle. 

"Don't get to the finish thinking, 'if only I'd gone harder up Rosea!'", muttered the White Rabbit, looking at his watch. 

"Avoid trail running in the lead up to road races!" warned the Dodo. 

"Running trails like this remind you why you run in the first place!" cried the Caterpillar. 

"Don't forget how quickly you warm up when running!", reminded the March Hare. 

"Nothing beats spending time with like-minded friends!", winked the Cheshire Cat. 

"There's nothing wrong with a little bit of healthy competition!", shouted the Queen of Hearts. 

"Isn't trail running wonderful?", Alice thought to herself, smiling. 

----

My Suunto Movescount file: http://www.movescount.com/moves/move74725284

For two great videos of the run, check out the efforts of Marcus Pain and Peter Southton

Visit the Wonderland Facebook page for more excellent photos, many of them taken by Matilda Iglesias of MiCreations. A special mention also to Tamsin and Andrew Bearsley, who took and posted whole bunch of excellent photos.

Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon: A Memento

Saturday 11 April 2015

9:20pm. Pizza never tasted so good

8:40pm. Finish showering. I think enough dirt came off me to fill one of those golf buggy sand buckets. Everything hurts.

8:10pm. We start the 700m walk along the river back to the house we are staying at. I say 'walk', but that's probably not how an observer would describe it.

7:55pm. "I think I'd like that beer now please, Nicole."

It's over

7:50pm. Successfully pull myself together. I thank Paul, Franck and Nicole for all of their excellent support. Each played a key role in getting me to the finish line.

7:45pm. <incoherent rambling>

7:44pm, 75.8km. I cross the finish line in 78th place out of about 150. Embrace Nicole. Salty discharge forms around eyes. Don't think it's sweat.

7:40pm, 75.1km. Caravan park guests banging on pots and pans, hooting and cheering as I run past. "Looking strong!" Can't wipe the smile from my face.

7:25pm, 72.5km. A very slow, very painful descent later, I finally hit a runnable gradient. I feel like I'm flying. In reality, I'm doing 5:40/km pace.

6:58pm, 70.7km. Start of the Mystic descent. Reasonably certain my toenails are being prised off my toes with every step.

6:51pm, 69.8km. "I told you not to wait for me! Go!", Franck says as he gets to the top of Mick's Track. I decide to take his advice on board this time and start the final uphill section towards the summit of Mystic, not looking back.

6:48pm, 69.8km. Literally howl "Yeeeesssss!!!" It was guttural, primal. I'd done it. I decide to wait for Franck.

6:48pm, 69.79km. Realise I'm 10m from the top.

6:31pm, 69.3km. Franck and I hit the bottom of Mick's Track. About half a kilometre at an average gradient of 43% (give it a moment - let that sink in). In the dark. This is going to be... character building. Franck tells me to go ahead. And I do, slowly. Very slowly. 5 steps, rest. 4 steps, slip back a step. Repeat. I get to a break in the climb, an access road. Someone is there, lost. I find the reflective course marker, alert him to it and push onwards. I don't know how it would be possible to get up this climb without sticks. A truly epic 17 minutes.

Ultra winner Tom Owens near the top of Mick's Track 

(Photo credit: Franck Verez)

6:18pm, 68.3km. Some good banter with a friend of Connie's at the base of Clear Spot. It's great to share a laugh with and hear some positive words from spectators at this point in the race. It's also great to be finished with that f$&%ing descent. Headlamp is switched on at the Bakers Gully aid station. 

6:17pm, 68.2km. 27 minutes, it turns out. For 1.8km. 15:00/km pace. Downhill. Ha. 

What I did NOT look like on the Clear Spot descent

(Photo credit: Buffalo Stampede Facebook page)

6:04pm, 67.5k. Franck, me and Connie. The Three Amigos, slipping and sliding (sometimes on our bums) down this treacherous descent. We've been going for close to 15 minutes and we're only half way down... How long can this take?

5:50pm, 66.5km. I start the descent and that's when it happens - toe pain. Over the course of the run, my toes must have taken a battering and now on this gradient, every step results in a sharp stab of pain in my toes. Franck and I slowly make our way back to Connie.

5:40pm, 66.1km. Just before the Clear Spot summit, we catch up to Connie, part of the Trail Chix running community. We share a few words of encouragement (just 10km to go!). Once we reach the summit, Connie forges ahead whilst I get a final refill from Paul and re-patch my blisters. I thank Paul for about the 50th time today and tell him I'll see him at the finish line.

5:20pm, 64.6km. I ask Franck if that crest up ahead is the top of Clear Spot. He looks at me funny, maybe with pity. "No, not even close. Have you checked your altimeter?" No I hadn't. I check it. 715m. Clear Spot is 1,020m. Right then - just a lazy 300m elevation to go.

5:15pm, 64.2km. A few metres from the top, a friendly face, coming back down the wall. "Nick!" It's my friend Franck, a regular to these trails and very experienced ultra runner who is staying with us tonight and promised to see me out on the trails. I immediately thank him for telling me to not even contemplate this event without using sticks. They've been invaluable on this Wall (about 400m at 37%, depending on where the official 'start' is).

5:06pm, 63.9km... Warner's Wall. Ok, you bastard, here I am.

Warner's Wall

(Photo credits: Franck Verez)

5:00pm, 63.3km. I've caught and passed them all, just before reaching...

4:35pm, 60.2km. I arrive at the Buckland aid station and can see four runners ahead. Paul tells me I'm looking better than most people he's seen come through - I'm running whereas everyone else is "running". This is a great mental boost - I might be hurting, but others ahead of me are hurting more. I have a quick chat to one of the first aid guys whilst Paul attends to my bottles and then run off towards those ahead of me.

4:01pm, 54.9km. Yep, I did. That hill just kept on going. But I'm over the top of it now and I've got about five kilometres of running ahead of me before the Buckland aid station. I think back to my earlier pledge coming through this part of the course and smile as I run freely past a few people who are struggling a bit.

3:26pm, 51.5km. I leave the Eurobin Creek picnic area, with a nagging feeling that I'd underestimated how hard this climb over Keating Ridge was going to be when I proposed the time I'd be at the next aid station in my race schedule.

3:20pm, 51.4km. "You look completely different compared to at the top." That's Nicole's assessment when I arrive at the base of the Big Walk at Eurobin aid station. I'm not surprised - my legs are really starting to feel it . Still 24km and a whole bunch of climbing to go. I'm in 89th position. My parting words to my beloved wife: "Bring one of the beers and a bottle opener to the finish line." 

3:06pm, 49.5km. "I've sprained my ankle before but I'm not going let this one stop me from finishing. Thanks for helping." And I push on.

3:01pm, 49.5km. <Trip, roll, pop>. "I've done my ankle." Fortunately for me, it was the guy 10 metres in front of me. I help him (his name is Oliver) to strap his ankle with a bandage and ask if he needs me to help him to the aid station. 

2:44pm, 46.9km. Ok, I'm about 5km into the run down the Big Walk and my legs are starting to hurt a little now... 

Heading down the Big Walk

(Photo credit: Aurora Images)

1:54pm, 41.5km. I'm back at the Chalet, having completed the marathon course. I feel really good at this point, apart from the blister on my left heel. I drop into a chair and patch it up properly whilst Paul and Nicole help out with bottles and food.  Almost 7 hours in and I'm feeling good, feeling strong. Nicole confirms this, saying I look remarkably good this far into the race. With that, I'm off, telling them I'll see them at the bottom. 

Still feeling pretty good at the second pass of the Chalet

1:30pm, 39.4km. I pass someone else. This guy. (Or girl. I didn't check.) 

1:16pm, 37.6km. I arrive at the Chalwell Galleries for a bit of fun. The course requires you to squeeze through a hole in the granite, step down some bolted-in ladder rungs and then shimmy through a narrow gap in the rock. Very cool. I've also just passed my longest ever duration out on a run. Into the unknown...

12:36pm, 34.2km. The Big Walk is done. I'm at the Chalet and meet Paul. He tells me that I've made up some ground - people I was 15 minutes behind at Eurobin are only a few minutes ahead of me now. I check my heel - yep, there's a blister. Unbeknownst to Paul, I'd put a first aid kit in one of the bags I gave him, but it's in his car. No matter - there's a first aid tent over there. But no one's manning it! I rifle through their supplies and find some gauze but no tape. A spectator comes to my aid with some tape and I quickly patch it up. By this stage my wife Nicole has also arrived and it's great to see her. I head off on the 7km loop at the top of Buffalo. 

11:51am, 30.2km. Tom Owens flies past in the lead, with DTR member Ash (a spectator today) running behind him, giving him some updates. I say "Hi" and "well done", scarcely believing Tom is about 15km ahead of me! 

Heading up the Big Walk

(Photo credit: Aurora Images)

11:25am, 27.8km. Despite the awareness of a blister forming on my heel, I'm really enjoying the Big Walk. I'm taking it easy, conserving the energy I know I'll need later in the race. That said, I'm still passing people on the way up, one of them Garth, another Jamie from DTR. I run a little, walk a little, resisting the urge to run a bit more.  

About 3km into the Big Walk

10:45am, 24.4km. I start the Big Walk - a 10km climb up the side of Mount Buffalo. My race plan is to take it slow and not get caught up in the KOM competition that times your performance from the bottom to the top and back again. A 10km climb is something very new to me and I want to enjoy it. 

10:40am, 24.4km. The descent from Keating Ridge was uneventful and I arrive at the Eurobin aid station at the foot of Mount Buffalo. I exchange my bottles for a 1.5L bladder, have a quick chat to Paul and I'm off. I'm in 103rd place at this point (although I don't know this until after the results are published).  

9:49am, 17.9km. I enter the Mount Buffalo National Park to start the climb over Keating Ridge. I decide to walk almost from the start, ignoring the people running past me. "It's not about running through this section on the way out," I think to myself, "but I WILL be running through here on the way back."

9:32am, 15.5km. Through Buckland aid station. I take some pictures but they don't do the scenery justice. 

 Departing the Buckland Valley aid station

9:05am, 11.4km. I slip and slide down Warner's Wall, literally falling over three times, sticks flying. So embarrassing. I have red dirt stains everywhere - hands, legs, DTR singlet, shorts. Really looking forward to going up this at the 64km mark...

9:03am, 11.0km. I bump into DTR and SCTR regular Siqi on the way down from Clear Spot, who tells me the next few km are flat after the next descent. It's just that the next descent is the infamous "Warner's Wall"

Start of the descent from Clear Spot

8:49am, 9.3km. That climb up to Clear Spot just keeps... on... going. It takes 40 minutes for 1.8km. On its slopes I draw level with someone who asks me about my blog! My first brush with fame! (Delusions of grandeur? Moi?). His name is Garth and we chat for a bit, with me sharing the good news that my Suunto GPX file is telling me the top is only 300m away. Coming down this hill later on will be interesting, I think to myself,  but I'm pretty sure it won't be too bad. We get to the top and my support crew member Paul is there, with some more Tailwind ready to go

Early stages of the Clear Spot climb

(Photo credit: Aurora Images)

8:12am, 7.5km. Mick's Track finally over, I run past the aid station at Bakers Gully and prepare myself for the second climb: Clear Spot. The photographer perfectly captures my reaction upon seeing the climb:

First glimpse of Clear Spot

(Photo credit: Aurora Images) 

8:00am, 6.2km. This isn't a hill, it's a cliff face! Still, at least I'm keeping my feet, that's three people I've seen fall over, but at least I'm still uprigh... Oh. Never mind. 

The pros descending Mick's Track

(Photo credit: Franck Verez) 

7:56am, 6.0km. We have to go down THAT?!?! 

7:55am, 5.9km. I can see a turn-off ahead. That must be this "Mick's Track" that everyone talks about.

7:42am, 4.7km. We emerge from the trees and we're approaching the helipad at the top of Mystic. The first climb done! That actually wasn't so bad - not sure what the fuss is about, to be honest. I mean, if the other side of this hill is anything like this, it should be relatively easy to climb later on.

7:20am, 3.4km. The serious stuff starts. The climb to Mystic. The first of seven climbs. I settle into an easy rhythm and get out the sticks.

7:03am, 0.5km. I have a chat with my friend and runner extraordinare, Vanessa. We talk about how fast people are running. That's ok, we say - the goal is to be running fast at the end of 75kms, not at the start.

7:00am, 0.0km. Go!

6:59:57am. 3,2,1...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Suunto Movescount file: http://www.movescount.com/moves/move58806486

Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon course profile

Roller Coaster Run 2015 race report

"Nick, you're aware this is a race, right? Do you want me to go up there and bring you back a pastry or something?"

"Yeah, that would be lovely... Oh alright Rohan, I guess I should get moving."

And so I set off on my second loop of the course, feeling good but not really knowing what was going to be in store for me.

Wait, let me back up a little bit.

The Roller Coaster Run is the brainchild of Michael Clarke and Rohan Day, the same organisers of one of Australia's biggest (by number of competitors) trail runs - the Two Bays Trail Run. Held in the Dandenong Ranges to the east of Melbourne, it comprises a 22km loop which can either be traversed once or twice, with the second loop in reverse for the first time this year.

Oh, and there's about 1,000m of elevation gain per loop.

All quiet at the start/finish area before dawn

(Photo credit: Erwin Jansen, dandyrunner.com)

I signed up for the two loop 'ultra', figuring it would be a good lead up race three weeks out from the 75km Buffalo Stampede Ultra SkyMarathon. This was not only due to the suitable course, but the also the brilliant atmosphere that makes Rohan Day's events so special. I had run the one loop and two loop races before and volunteered last year, so this was the fourth consecutive year I was fronting up to Mt. Dandenong.

Of course, being a member of the Dandenongs Trail Runners, I had also run these trails on countless occasions, so I knew exactly what I was in for. Hills, and lots of 'em.

After catching up with my fellow DTRs before the race, and kind of interrupting the pre-race briefing to take a group photo (sorry Clarkey, it wasn't my decision!), I'd set off at an easy pace, with a goal of a 3hr first loop and a negative split.

DTR on home turf

(Photo credit: Cameron Baillie)

'Easy' in this context meant walking any of the serious hills and cruising the flats and downhills. I was joined by DTR member Peter Southton, who was hoping to complete the first loop in around 2:45-3:00 and then do whatever it took to get to the line.

 Peter and I on the first loop, on Kyeema Track (top, around 2km) and Bradley Track (bottom, around 8km)

(Photo credits: Erwin Jansen, dandyrunner.com)

I really enjoyed having Peter as company and we both had some good banter with other runners, several of whom were commenting on my use of running/hiking sticks on the steeper climbs and descents. I've been using them for a couple of months now, practising for Buffalo where I hope they will really come in handy.

Practising with the sticks up Dodds Track (6km)

(Photo credit: Cameron Baillie)

I had some time checks written down, but it soon became apparent that despite taking it easy, we were going to get to the half way point much faster than three hours. A five minute advantage at the bottom of the punishing Dodds Track climb (5.3km) became a 10 minute advantage at the bottom of the steep Ridge Track (11km) descent, which became a 15 minute advantage at the base of Link Track (17km), which marks the start of the last 5km uphill grind to the line. But there was no apparent reason to slow down, so we kept the same pace until we'd reached the half way point in 2:41. 

It was after having my second cup of Coke and just generally taking it easy, that Rohan reminded me that I wasn't out there for a Saturday stroll. So, Peter and I got going again.

Right from the start of the second loop, I knew I was having a good day. I flew down the steep descent at the start of the loop, enjoying my new-found confidence on the downhills. There was one very slippery descent on Trig Track to go until we got to the Kalorama aid station and the sticks were definitely my friend there, helping to stabilise me as I scythed my way through the poor souls dragging themselves up it, two steps forward, slipping half a step back. I hung back a bit at the bottom and waited for Peter and we both started passing people on the way down the mountain.

Approaching Kalorama aid station (24km) on the second loop

(Photo credit: Cameron Baillie)

[I'd just like to pause here and thank DTR member Cameron Baillie, for giving up his Saturday morning to come out and give us his support and take many great photos, some of which I've posted here.] 

At the base of Link Track (~27km), Peter told me to push on if I wanted to. I thanked him for his company and said I was feeling good so would forge on and see him at the finish line. There began two hours of trail running which I will never forget. 

My strategy to go out easy was starting to pay dividends. As each kilometre went by, I seemed to pass a couple of people who were beginning to find the going pretty tough. I was managing sub- 5min/km on the flatter parts of the course (yes, there are some!) and even when I was walking up the harder hills, I was doing it much quicker than the other people out on course. I get an enormous psychological benefit if I'm the one doing the passing, rather than being passed, in the second half of an ultra, so I was really pleased with how I was going.  

As I hit the southern most part of the course and approached the climb up Ridge Track, a volunteer told me I was looking fresh. This was close to four hours after I started and hearing that made me feel even better. I passed another person going up the steep pinch up Ridge Track, three more on the undulating Banksia, two more on the short Bradley uphill, five more up the School Track grind. As I was descending Range Rd, trail running good-guy Jon Lim (volunteering on the day) said to me "You look like you just started running!"

I have never felt that good so far into a run. Me and my sticks garnered some more comments on the technical descent on Dodds Track, but this time, they were asking me to hand them over! From the base of Dodds Track, the next 3km is a climb up Channel 10 and Zig Zag tracks. It was on Channel 10 that I caught DTR-founder and running legend Peter Mitchell. Peter had dried blood and dirt caked onto his leg from a nasty fall at the 7km mark and after he shared a few encouraging words with me (as always), I decided that the lure of a negative split was too much, so I pressed on towards Zig Zag.

Life's good just before hitting Channel 10 Track (39km)

(Photo credit: Erwin Jansen, dandyrunner.com)

I wasn't looking forward to Zig Zag (860m at 17% average gradient), but it was much easier than I thought it would be, passing another 5 people and getting the (by now) common "you make it look easy with those sticks" comment. At the bottom of the final pinch to Sky High I found Rohan, Clarkey and Tony Langelaan (a better runner than I'll ever be, who always volunteers at this event). I turned the corner and started running up the hill and got a "He's still running!" from Rohan. When I shouted out that a negative split was on, I got a cheer, followed by a quick "That means you didn't work hard enough on the first loop!" from Mr. Race Director.

On my way up, I passed the last of the one loop runners, who I recognised from earlier in the race on Edgar track. I gave her a quick word of encouragement and pushed on towards the line, crossing in 5:06, for a 15 minute negative split. I'd passed 46 people on the second lap without being passed once, which after my disastrous pacing effort at Two Bays was just what I needed before Buffalo. The next hour or so was spent catching up with family and friends, and seeing my first lap running partner Peter cross the line in sub- 6 hours - this from a man who told me he just wanted to beat the 7 hour cut-off. DTR members had again covered themselves in glory, with victories, podiums, PBs and other assorted triumphs.

 The finish line in all its glory

(Photo credit: Erwin Jansen, dandyrunner.com)

And so it was over for another year. This event has really grown on me and the addition of the reversed second loop has just added to its appeal. Of course, when you've got organisers like Rohan Day, Michael Clarke and Kate Ablett, backed up by the best volunteers in the business (and they were sensational, as ever), it's always going to be a special day. On a running front, I've done everything I can to get me prepared for the Buffalo Stampede. Let's hope it's enough.

Suunto Movescount file: http://www.movescount.com/moves/move56565424

Post script: having re-read my piece, I've realised I could be accused of giving myself a smug pat on the back. In response, I would say: (1) this is one of the few races that went even better than I'd planned, so yeah, I'm pretty happy, (2) there were still 38 people who finished faster than me, so I have no delusions about my ability and (3) it's more than likely that Buffalo will knock me down a peg or two! 

Two Bays 2015: A Lexical Odyssey

This weekend I lined up in my favourite race on the calendar: the Two Bays Trail Run. I had registered for my second attempt at the ultra distance - a 56km run from Cape Schanck to Dromana and back, situated on Victoria's Mornington Peninsula. What follows are some cobbled-together thoughts of how it went.

Aid stations. In fact, all volunteers, be they manning aid stations, offering directions, or helping at the start/finish areas. The vibe at the aid stations and the enthusiasm shown by the volunteers are key factors in what makes this event so special. A special thank you to fellow Dandenongs Trail Runner Les Corson, for his help at the 50km aid station.

Boardies. You don't often associate board shorts, Hawaiian shirts and floral leis with running. But in this race, those things get you a priority start! My $10 'race boardies' from Kmart worked a treat.

Cramp. Last year, I cramped 700m before the finish line, both quads seizing up completely and losing me several minutes. This year, some calf tightness in the last couple of kms seemed to be the worst of it, until, 200m from the finish line, PING! Thankfully it only cost me a few seconds (and one place) this time. I do wonder, though, whether it's now a mental thing, rather than a physical one...

Dandenongs Trail Runners. The DTR crew were out in force this weekend, across both the 28km and 56km distances. I won't single out particular individuals, because that would do an injustice to the ones I didn't mention, who all (I'm sure) achieved goals, overcame difficulties, pushed through pain, etc. I'm privileged to be part of that group.

Emotions. Ultra running really does bring them all out. Elation ("I'm flying!"), Despair ("I'm wasted"). Optimism ("Bring on the hills!"), Pessimism ("I can't get up this"). Camaraderie ("You're doing great, keep it up!"), Competitiveness ("I'll pass you back, you swine!"). What a great sport.

Facebook. Rohan Day (race director) was probably the first RD in the trail/ultra running community to recognise the importance of social media. The Facebook community surrounding his runs is phenomenal and is another major factor in the popularity of this event.

Greens Bush. This was the section of the course that was my salvation (see Q and R for more info on that). Once I hit Greens Bush at about the 40km mark, everything started to work again and I started to enjoy myself. Finally passing some other runners did wonders for my confidence, too.

Feeling good (finally) in Greens Bush

Hills. I thought this is where I would have my edge over most of the middle of the pack runners. Instead, after going out too hard, both of my ascents of Arthurs Seat were actually slower than last year. Even some of the more gentle hills on the return leg were slowing me to a walk. Oh well, there's only one way to get better at running hills, they say... Better get myself back to the Dandenongs.

Injuries. Unfortunately, many of my fellow DTRs were sidelined due to injury. That several of them turned up to cheer on those of us who were running is a testament to the group's esprit de corps.

Jump. This photo of DTR regular and all-round good guy Luke Johnston was too good not to include. Thanks to Luke for letting me include this!

Might as well... Jump!

KPI. My main 'Key Performance Indicator' for the last few ultras has been to improve my position in the second half of the race. At the half way point of this race, I was pretty sure I'd fail on that front. But I actually managed to make up 15 places between Dromana and Cape Schanck. There you go.

Laughter. Yes, there was even laughter. When I dragged myself up a pinch towards the end of Greens Bush (~48km-ish?) to be confronted by a photographer, I mustered enough energy to blurt out "I'm not running for you!". The picture captures the moment pretty well.

I run for no one

Medal. If there's a better race medallion out there, I want to see it.

The Two Bays medal - just perfect for a post-race beverage (Photo credit: David Adams) 

Next year? As much as this is my favourite race, and the one that first exposed me to the joys of trail running, it happens to coincide with the time-honoured Bogong to Hotham ultra. Chances are next year I'll miss Two Bays for the first time in five years and test my strength in the Victorian Alps, but we'll see.

Organisation. I've written about the volunteers and Facebook, but really, the success of this event is down to Rohan Day, Kate (Mama Two Bays) Ablett and Michael (Clarkey) Clarke. They leave no stone unturned, no 't' not crossed, no 'i' not dotted. They listen to their participants, they innovate, they build not just an event, but a community. And they deserve all the plaudits they receive.

Personal best. With a finishing time of 5:48, I knocked 20 minutes off last year's time and went sub- 6 hours in the process. It's a good thing I didn't...

...Quit. Yep, at the halfway point, I came pretty close to unpinning my race number and throwing in the towel. I'd gone out too hard and paid for it on the ascent/descent of Arthurs Seat and here I was, having to face that hill again, straight away, with another 20km+ to go after (if) I managed that. A big factor in my continuing was seeing DTR legend Vanessa Bolton at the turn around point (Vanessa was sweeping the course). Vanessa's exceptional performance at the Alpine Challenge miler in December 2014, where she was out on course for 40hrs+ gave me the inspiration I needed to tackle another measly 28km. Thankyou Vanessa!

Race plan. So, what got me in that situation in the first place? Well, after some confidence building training runs, I decided a week before the race that that's how I'd treat it - as a race. This is instead of a training run for Buffalo, which had been the plan all along. So I went out strong, and by the time I hit the Browns Road aid station (18km), I was 15 minutes up on my time from last year. Just 3km later at McLarens Dam, with the first major climb staring me in the face, I knew I had erred. From there until the 40km mark, I struggled mentally and physically. I was spent, I was frustrated, I was being overtaken. But then, well, see 'G', 'K' and 'P', above for the rest.

Stairs. There's nothing like being faced with stairs the day after an ultra. I might have climbed Arthurs Seat twice during the run, but being confronted with one flight of internal stairs at the office the next day is enough to make one's legs tremble.

Tailwind. I had again used Tailwind Nutrition (mixed with water) as my fuel source, after a successful outing at the Marysville 50. The 2.5 litres I mixed up lasted me pretty much until the 50km aid station, when my bottles ran dry (thanks for the refill, Les!) and I had my first gel in months. I'd forgotten how bad they tasted. For anyone who wants a carb-based fuel for long runs, I'd recommend giving Tailwind a try. I'll even give you some of mine.

Undulating. The word 'undulating' takes on a whole new meaning in the last 16km of this race. It sounds so forgiving on the Two Bays website: "The middle of the track passes through mostly undulating Track through national park and forest." And yeah, I remember it being pretty nice during the two 28km runs I completed in 2012 and 2013. But in the 56km, those 'undulations' play with your mind and suddenly, you're thinking the profile of this section must look something like this:

What Greens Bush to Cape Schanck looks like to an ultra participant

Views. One of the (few) good things about my miserable 20-40km section was my attitude that it was ok to stop and take in the scenery. It really is a gorgeous course, with beautiful views. This isn't the best of them, but hey, it's the only one that got caught on camera.

Striding out strong, early in the race

Weather. If you listened to various reports in the week leading up to the race, Victoria was going to be swamped by a biblical-scale weather event. Well, come the morning of the race, it was a relatively benign 18 degrees, albeit with a rather high degree of humidity. Towards the end of the race it got pretty warm, but only 24 degrees or so, which you can't complain about in the middle of summer. I did feel for the guy I passed at the 54km mark who was wearing full length Skins...

EXcel. (What do you want? It's 'X' for crying out loud.) Those who know me well are aware of my penchant for spreadsheets and analysing data. So it is perhaps unsurprising that I've dumped my data from the 2014 and 2015 Two Bays runs into Excel and produced a couple of charts. The first shows how many seconds faster (below the x-axis) or slower (above the x-axis) I was in each km this year, compared to 2014. See what I mean about going out too hard and paying for it on Arthurs Seat? The second one shows why this happened, and indicates the dangers of running to a particular pace and not thinking to check your heart rate.

Yo-yo. What my race resembled. This is the first time this has happened to me in a long distance event. I've usually felt good the whole way, or started bad and ended well, or started well and ended badly. I've never actually had a race where I went through a really bad patch and come out on the other side feeling good. And on reflection, I'm quite glad it turned out that way, because I'm sure those demons will surface at some point during the Buffalo Stampede.

Zeno's paradox. The ancient Greek philosopher Zeno of Elea argued that motion was an illusion, made impossible by the fact that, in order to move one unit of length, you first had to move half a unit of that length. But before moving half a unit, you had to move a quarter of the unit, and before that, an eighth of a unit, and so on ad infinitum. What the hell does this have to do with long distance running? Well, the next time someone, a non-runner, hears about your exploits and says "I don't know how you can run that far!", think about what Zeno might have said. "Well", you might say, "First, I tried running half that distance. And before that, I tried running a quarter of that distance, and before that...". Who knows, maybe you'll be the inspiration that has someone toeing the line at Dromana or Cape Schanck a few years from now.

*All race photos by Supersport Images.