Race Report: Blackall 50

The Blackall 50

I suppose this story begins the Thursday night before the race, after I got home from Oktoberfest in Fortitude Valley, when the message came through that due to the amount of rain the Mapleton area has received over the past couple weeks, the course would be changed to avoid the areas that have been flooded. This meant for me doing the 50km, the big climb up The Bluff got removed and instead a section around a dam was included, which was a lot flatter. When I found out this news I’ll admit I was a little annoyed, I like to think of myself as a pretty good climber and my former race plan prior to this news was to push really hard up the climb and to try my best on the flatter sections. With news that that the total elevation would be less I knew I would struggle to complete my, perhaps unrealistic, goal of winning the race.

I made a new race plan based off the times of last year, which was the same course as this year, and if I ran that goal time that I set myself, based on last year, I would win. Easy right?

Now that I've ran this course, I can safely say that the race plan is way off. 4.20 is easily achievable, however I would do some sections faster and other sections slower.

And with that I showed up to the start-line at 7am on Saturday morning, when it started to rain. Which didn’t stop for the entire day. The conditions were the polar opposite for what I trained for. Instead of hot and dry, it was cool and wet, which I was grateful for. I was really struggling in the heat during the build-up to this race.

Anyways, the gun went off and the next 3ish km’s were on the road. During this time I realised that I had no chance at winning. 1 person lead from the gun, never to be seen again (he ended up winning it in 4 hours 1 minute, the person who got second came through in 4 hours 9 minutes). However, I was still hopeful of a podium as I was in touch with the top 5 by the time we left the road and onto sweet single track for the next 5km’s, in the Mapleton National Park. During this time I lost a few positions as the single track section was fairly flat and I wasn’t willing to push myself so early on in the race. This meant when I went through the first checkpoint 9km in I had dropped back to 11^th. I was feeling really good at this point and I knew that a large downhill section was coming up (based off the course profile, I had never been on the course prior to the day), and this was a section I would hopefully make up a bit of time. And for the first part, I did! The trail was a fire access road, that was bit muddy and slippery due to the rain, but not that technical. I was able to pick up around 4 positions until the 14km mark. I had just started the steepest descent (24% according to Strava) and there were a few rocks on the trail, as there had been for a few of the previous downhills. I suppose I just wasn’t concentrating hard enough or I was unlucky but when I put my left foot down I stepped on a rock and rolled it. As soon as I did it, I knew it wasn’t something that would go away after a few km’s. It hurt like hell! And it couldn’t have happened in a worst sport. I was 5km away from the previous checkpoint and 6km away from the next one. I’m grateful to the runners who passed me who offered their help, but they couldn’t do anything but inform the next checkpoint, which Troy did, so thanks Troy! 

The next km and a bit were agony. Every downhill and flat section were painful beyond words. It was brutal, I can’t remember ever being in so much pain during a run. But the climbs were ok, I could almost run up them without the pain being too great. And by the 17^th km the pain had reduced enough for me to run on it almost normally. But the next approx. 35km were the hardest I’ve ever done. I’ve been asked why I didn’t drop out at checkpoint 5, 20km’s into the race and after thinking about it a lot, I can narrow it down to 3 main reasons. 

1. The fact I could run on it at all 2km’s after I rolled it suggested to me that I hadn’t done any serious damage to my ankle. If I had I’m sure my body would’ve let me know. 
2. There was no way I was going to quit after training since July for this race. I had put to much time and effort into this to drop out less than halfway through. There was no way I was going to have a DNF at the GC marathon, followed by another DNF at Blackall. No way. 
3. Mental grit/toughness/fortitude, whatever you want to call it. If I want to do 100 mile races in the near future that are going to take over 24 hours to complete, I need to have experience of being in the ‘hurt-locker’. Because after talking to people who have done that distance, it’s going to hurt. I want to know what it’s like to hurt, to keep on going even when my body is telling me to me quit. Prior to this race, I haven’t experienced my body wanting to give up. I do now.

Once I had passed checkpoint 5 I’ll admit I wasn’t a huge fan of the course. We had to do a loop that was relatively flat, wet, muddy, along a fire road and the only thing to look at was trees. I went through a routine of running when my ankle didn’t hurt too bad, walk when it did. Repeat. One good thing to come out of the rolled ankle was the ability to talk to other racers. As I was walking a fair bit it meant that I wasn’t ‘puffed’ and I could strike up an enjoyable conversation with people that I never met before. People like Gav, who I found out was sweeping the 100km course later that night after completing the 50km. Crazy! (And he even managed a top 10 finish!) 

The Dam Loop

Once the loop was complete, it was time for a moderate climb (that would have been all runnable if not for my ankle) up a different road than the one we came down before going through checkpoint 4 and back along the same single track and down the bitumen road to the finish line, where I crossed in a time of 4.45.27, coming in 13^th overall. And very, very happy I finished! I've finished races where I’ve placed better and raced better, but that feeling of accomplishment I got when I crossed the line when my body wanted me to quit, second-to-none. It’s hard to describe in words what I felt, but if people ask me why I run ultra’s. It’s partially due to feeling I got when I crossed that line.

To finish the race you have to ring the bell. I love that Run Queensland has included this!

Before starting this race I had the intention of never doing it again. Mostly because it doesn’t play to my strengths. Ankle notwithstanding, it took me 4 hours 17 minutes to complete the Brisbane Trail Marathon which featured 2000m worth of climbing/descending, when I was taking it easy and doing it as a training race. In comparison it took me 4 hours 13 minutes to hit 42km's during this race (about 1000m of climbing). I like climbing steep stuff and I like running downhill on steep stuff (this race is the first time I’ve rolled an ankle running downhill). Blackall is known as a fast, runnable course. Not my forte as I’m not particularly speedy. However, with my race not going the way I wanted it too, I’ll be back. I’m not sure when, but I’ll be back, and I’ll be doing the 100km.

As always there are a ton of thank-you’s and acknowledgments I wish to make. The first one is to Felix and May. As I don’t own a car I would’ve had difficulty getting out to the race if you didn’t take me out there and back. Thanks so much! And well done once again on completing the 100km in abysmal conditions. Thanks to all the volunteers who helped out over the weekend, without you guys these races wouldn’t happen. And well done to anyone who was out on the course past 1pm, the weather went from being bearable to disgusting. So much respect. There is also a runner named David, who I didn’t meet until late at night after I had finished. He was 60 and he got 3^rd in the 50km, against racers who were half his age. You’re an inspiration, when I’m an old dude I want to be as fit, fast and humble as you! And lastly, thanks to the Run Queensland organisers. This was my first event with them and considering the logistical nightmare it must’ve been to change the course two days before the race due to rain, the race was really well organised. It was a great race to be a part of.

After seeing a doctor, I’ve been told that I shouldn’t have done any serious damage to my ankle. Which is good news as I’ll be doing my next ultra in about a month’s time in Victoria’s Alps, a 60km featuring a lot more climbing, I’m really looking forward to it! Until then, it’s all about the rest and recovery!

The TRN

Race Report: Queensland Mountain Running Champs

Unfortunately due to uni, this will be a very brief overview of what went down at the Queensland Mountain Running Championships.

Leading into this race I had no idea what to expect: what the competition would be like, what the hills would be like, what the actual trail surface itself would be like. I only knew that it was 8.3km in length and had about 300m of climbing (and descending). Also knowing how bad I am at short distances (I only have to look back at my disastrous Pinnacles Classic to find an example of this) I went into this race knowing that my heart rate would be sitting near it’s max for a lot of the race, and not knowing the competition, I figured a top 5 finish should be achievable along with going under 40 minutes.

So unfortunately with not owning a car my day started at 5.45 race morning, where I had to ride my bike for about an hour to be able to be picked up to make it out to the start line, but at least I made it out there, so thanks Dan! Once arrived I went through my usual warm up, but what was interesting to see was other people doing the same! For most trail races, there are hardly anyone who warms up beforehand (and I’ll admit I’m one of those people once the distance exceeds 30km) but for this race, there was at least 10! And during this period I figured out that there were two other serious opponents, which meant I revised my previous goal and aimed for a podium finish.

Elevation profile of the race

Anyways, I got to the start line warmed up and ready to go and as I expected, when the whistle blew, the two other guys shot off like a rocket. The first km was pretty much entirely uphill on a dirt, non-technical road. By the end of the first km I had lost sight of first, and wouldn’t see him again until I had crossed the finish line, but I never lost sight of second. He quickly gained about 50m on me in the first km, but I managed to get within 20m during the first downhill about 1.5km’s in. Then the race flattened out a bit and he managed to gain about a 100m on me (and I lost sight of him). Then the real climbing began.

By this point in time my heart rate was sky high (and I really wish I wore a HR monitor to reflect on how high my HR went) and I knew that if I didn’t slow down I would blow up, so as soon the hill started at around 3km I took to powerhiking. The 1km climb up Camp Mountain was brutal but to my surprise, halfway up it, I saw second. And then to my further surprise I managed to pass him and put myself into second place.

From the 4km point it was pretty much all downhill on 4WD track and I pushed myself downhill as hard as I could, with my S/Lab Sense 4 giving me great confidence. Unfortunately, I don’t do much downhill training at full speed (there’s no point as I’m training for an ultra, running downhill at full speed is a great way to kill your quads and ruin the rest of your race) and the constant jarring of each footfall really hurt my 11^th and 12^th ribs, so by the end of the 5^th km my HR was back to manageable levels, but I had to back off the pace, the pain was just too great. By km 6.5 when it started to flatten out a little bit I was wrecked. My quads, hamstrings and calves had nothing left to give and when the course went uphill a bit at km 6.9, I got overtaken by the same person whom I overtook on the climb. I tried to keep with him but failed. By the time I crossed the finish line I was about 20 seconds behind second and a about 3.5 minutes behind first, and totally exhausted.  

Once I finished the race I found out that the runner who came first, David, had ran at the National Mountain Running Champs numerous times and was only 10 seconds off making the Australian team this year to compete at the World Champs. And the guy who came second, Osman, has a 16 minute Parkrun (I still don’t think I’ve cracked 18 minutes yet for my 5km), so to say I was pretty happy with how I went is an understatement. And the best part is I found out all this stuff while on a cool down with these guys, two complete strangers before I started this race. How awesome is the trail community? (Hell, Osman even gave me a lift back to where my bike was after the medal presentation, thanks mate!)

After a great race, all eyes are now firmly focused on Blackall 50km. I’ve started a new block of training with a much greater emphasis on running rather than doing stuff in the gym (I’ve been doing a lot of strength since the Gold Coast Marathon), although as I’m writing this two days since the race, I haven’t been doing much running, I’m still really, really sore 😫

I’m excited for what Blackall will bring, it will be my second ultramarathon so I don’t want to be too ambitious with my goal but I’m quietly optimistic.

Until then thanks to TRAQ for organising another great race, the other competitors and of course, the volunteers (these events wouldn’t happen without you guys!)

The TRN 

A Reflection on the Gold Coast Marathon and Failure

The Gold Coast Marathon: my first A race for the year and my first DNF. This is what happened.

I turned up to the start area an hour before the gun went off, did my usual warm up run, then half an hour before the gun was set to go, ate a banana, then 15 mins prior, ate a gel. All normal, and everything was feeling good. I then made my way to the start line, wearing clothes I had worn during training feeling confident with my ability to succeed in my goal. I put myself near the 3-hour pacing bus, which was at the front of the runners, only second to the elites. That meant it only took about 5 seconds to cross the start line after the gun went off, where I pressed start on my watch and I had begun my journey.

On this run I carried 1L of Trail Brew, 5 Vfuel gels and a double shot expresso Clif Shot, with the goal of drinking a mouthful of water at each aid station (which were situated about every 2ish km’s), maybe more if it got warm. Luckily for me, race morning was the coldest yet for the Gold Coast winter, and I didn’t have to worry about the heat.

The first 1.5km’s were quick, after being pushed a little bit by the runners behind me when everyone was still congested. I ran over a bridge and turned a corner that made us run along-side the beach when I finally realised that I was running too quick, luckily only about 2km’s had passed by and it was a lot less congested, so I slammed on the brakes and waited for the 3 hour bus to catch up, and was then able to get into a rhythm. Every half hour eat gel, swish it down with Trail Brew, drink some water at each aid station, see bitumen, see buildings, hear spectators, repeat. I’ll admit by kilometre 15 I was bored, this is the point I probably would’ve put headphones in, but unfortunately I left those back in Brisbane. By kilometre 16, just 4 and a bit minutes later, my glutes and hip tendons were starting to hurt from the constant pounding of the bitumen. Each new step from this point onwards was also new territory, I had never ran this far this fast before. But by kilometre 18 my race started going downhill. 

Gold Coast Marathon pace

 The ache of my glutes had been pushed to the back of mind, replaced by the much more painful ache of my feet. My peroneal tendonitis had returned. This injury usually only flares up on uneven trails, and is helped by doing some strength exercises and taping up my feet. Before this race I had done a 2 hour 40 mins training run in the shoes I was to race in, with no issues with my feet. This meant I went into this race without taping up my feet. Perhaps not a smart decision. Up until my 18^th km I was maintaining about a 4.15 min/km average, by kilometre 20 I had slipped to 4.30min/km. From then on I slowed to a crawl, before finally at kilometre 24 I accepted defeat, took off my shoes and made the decision that I wouldn’t make it to the finish. I then walked in my socks for the next 5km’s seeing pacing bus after pacing bus pass me, when my feet felt a tiny bit better. I tried putting on my shoes and taking a few steps, before the pain returned to its previous levels. I then took my shoes off again before walking another kilometre back to the start-finish area. Race over.

Easing the pain in my feet by putting them in icy cold water after the race

Failure

I’ve been running competitively since I was about 14 when I joined my local athletics club and since then I don’t think I can say I’ve ever experienced failure. Disappointment? Sure, there’s been plenty of times when I didn’t quite get a time or position I wanted, but failure? I don’t think so.

Hindsight is one of those great things that I wish I could have before a race. I mean looking back on this race, should I have taped up my feet even though I was confident they wouldn’t be a problem? Yes. Should I have perhaps been doing the strengthening exercises that my physio has given me more often then I did? Yes.

I was lucky to have a supportive friend at the finish line who reminded me that (hopefully) I’ll be running competitively for the next 10-15 years of my life, and that I’ve only been doing these sort of distances for the past year and a half. This has definitely put things into perspective for me. While this is my first DNF, I’m sure that going forward, it won’t be my last.

After the GC race I’m pressing the reset button and trying something new. I’m taking a bit of a break this week, but will be finding out a few crucial bits of info. What my heart rate max is and what my one rep maxes are for a number of different strength exercises. I’m doing an exercise and sport science degree, and what I’ve learned over the past semester is that a training plan has to be tailored to an individual. I.e. From here on out I won’t be using a training plan found off the internet (what I did for this marathon). I’ve also found out that all aerobic training intensity should be based off heart rate, not off pace. So for this first time ever, my training plan won’t feature pace but percentage of max heart rate. And lastly I’ve also found that strength training can boost performance, and with my next race being a 50km ultra featuring 1500m of elevation, I figured getting a bit stronger couldn’t hurt. So over the next twoish months, I’m hitting the gym, a lot, and trying to maintain my current running fitness. It may work, it may not, but I’m excited to give it a try!

And finally to all of you who are reading this, liked my running posts and commented your support. I thank-you. It really does mean a lot to me having a great number of people backing me, through the thick and thin.

The TRN.

Race Report: Brisbane Trail Marathon

With Uni assignment deadlines looming and exams just around the corner, unfortunately I don’t have the time to make this race report as detailed as I would like. That being said, everything I’m going to include I feel is important to me to remember for future long distance races.

Every race I seem to do that involves the trails always has me waking up at a god-awful hour. For this race, it was 4.30am. I went through me usual pre-race breakfast of golden syrup on toast (2 slices) and an hour before the race, a banana. My parents drove me out to the start line, I collected my bib and I was ready to go.

This race was a training race, in preparation for the Gold Coast Marathon in about 4 weeks time. I wanted some confidence for the GC marathon that I would be able to make the distance. This race is only the second time I had ran the marathon distance, the first time was back in January as part of the Two Bays Ultra. In my training, my longest run is only about 2.5 hours in length. That’s not a lot of long distance experience. So any extra confidence I get is bound to be helpful in breaking 3 hours for GC.

Since my major race is only about a month away I couldn’t afford to be totally wrecked after running this, otherwise my road training would be impacted. As such I didn’t do any research on the race, I didn’t know where the aid stations were. I didn’t know where the major climbs were (or major descents). The only thing I knew was that there was about 2000m of climbing/descending. This meant I went to the start line with an estimated goal of finishing in about 4.5 hours, which was the time I crossed the marathon distance in during my ultra. I had no placing goals (I thought a top 10 might be nice, but didn’t think I would get it), and I was prepared to let that 4.5 hours blow out if it meant I would cross the line feeling fresher. I had another reason in crossing the line in about 4.5 hours. If I didn’t my parents wouldn’t be able to see me finish because they would miss their flight.

Elevation profile

Enough of the pre-race context! I started the race conservatively, using the first 30 mins as an effective warm-up. Which was good as the first 20 of those 30 mins was a gradual climb, gaining 100 metres along fire trail. We then dropped back down into a fairly technical single trail section around a lake, which was my favourite bit of the course. Lots of short, sharp climbs, lots of twisty goodness, and a few dry creek crossings for good measure. During this the pain I get in my right foot due to peroneal tendonitis reared it’s ugly head, but this wasn’t too unexpected as I haven’t done any weight training for my stabilising muscles (road is flat, so don’t need it!). However, once that section was done the pain went away as the rest of the race was fairly non-technical fire trail and I had my feet taped up to give that tendon some more support.

Coming out of the single track section I was probably sitting in about 7^th and feeling good. There was another long gradual climb which I went up at a pace that felt comfortable and managed to grab another couple positions, before heading into a nice descent and coming across ‘Hellhole Break’. Working at a trail running shop I’d heard of this climb from customers, but had no idea what it would be like. Luckily its bark was worse than its bite. It was fairly steep, but short and early on in the race (about 15km in) which meant that I had plenty of energy to climb it. This was also the point I caught up to 4^th, and we ran together for the next 6 or so kays.

Following Hellhole was a fairly long consistent climb and at the top was aid station 3, 27km into the race. At this point I was feeling good. Nutrition of consuming about 250 calories an hour with Trail Brew was on target, I wasn’t feeling dehydrated. No cramping. Just enjoying myself. So I asked the aid station people how far ahead 3^rd was, contemplating increasing my pace a little bit to try and catch him. They answered with a few minutes. I made the decision then to keep on with my easy pace. Feeling good the entire way of the race was the original goal, I didn’t want to cross the line feeling wrecked. I didn’t want to enter the hurt locker.

After the aid was station was the biggest descent of the race, dropping down into a valley. Along this way a couple things happened.

1. I came across a friend of mine, Mike, who was out marking the course, telling me that 3^rd was only just ahead of me.

2. My favourite part of the race, turning a corner and seeing a layer of cloud covering the fire trail. Spectacular. Just thinking about it now brings a smile to my face. This is one of the many reasons why I love running out on the trails. Completely unexpected moments such as that.

3. Passing 3^rd and somehow putting myself into a podium placing.

So cool dropping down into the cloud!

Unfortunately what goes down must go up. In most cases that would be a bad thing, but for me I used it as a chance to catch my breath as I walked up the entire hill. Unfortunately my calf cramped once during this, but while super painful it went away quickly which I was thankful for. I also spotted 2^nd a good 100 or so metres ahead of me during this climb, but when I reached the aid station at the top (33km into the race), where I got told that he was about 1 minute ahead of me I just reminded myself that I wasn’t to enter the hurt locker, and didn’t set off chasing him. However, it’s crazy just how much can change in 10 minutes. I went from feeling fine to feeling dehydrated and very hot, and the only thing that changed was I went from running in the shade to into the sun. My body wasn’t telling me it was thirsty at the aid station 10 minutes earlier. And I’m very much a fan of going off thirst ques my body gives me, rather than drinking a set amount of water each hour and risk over-hydration. I still wasn’t quite in the hurt locker yet though. I entered that at a climb at about 38km in. I knew it was coming, due to turning onto a trail that I ran on a couple weeks earlier during the Pinnacles Classic, but it didn’t make it any easier. This for me was the hardest climb of the race, and I had to pause for a good minute halfway up it to catch my breath. But there was a person marshaling there at the climb and I’m forever grateful for his encouragement in keeping me going. Without him there I could’ve be standing around not moving for a good period of time.

There was an aid station just after this climb which I was soo thankful for. With only a few kays left of the race I thought for sure the next time I would see some cool water would be at the finish line, but to my eternal gratitude there was one last aid station. I used it to pour water all over me to try and bring my body temperature down, and that was when I left the hurt locker and started to feel good again. I mean that and the fact that the rest of the race was pretty much all downhill. I ended up crossing the line in 4 hours 17 minutes and 43 seconds, and feeling pretty good, and into the congratulations of my parents. I had made back before they had to leave for their flight! It’s been a little while since my parents had seen me finish a race, so that was a special moment!

Thanks to the amazing people who volunteered and to TRAQ for putting on a great event! This course pretty much had everything and I enjoyed every moment, even the parts where it hurt.

Gold Coast, I’m coming for ya!

The TRN