2022 - Blackall Trail 100km
I got what I deserved: a hard day out in the bush, a mental test of resilience and a lesson of humility and respect of the distance. 13:02:56, a whopping 12% or 75 minutes slower than 2021, not that I checked! :)
Getting to the start line healthy and at the peak of your training block is the hardest part of racing.
Registration for races is typically 6-12 months in advance, a considerable amount of time for running niggles, injuries and life to put a spanner in the works.
The Blackall 100 is in early October and I was pretty happy with my progress to June, when I ran a half marathon a day for the whole month as part of my base training. Then I went on a family holiday to Europe for 5 weeks largely overestimating the amount of training I could do, got a second round of Covid which took me a few weeks to shook off and developed a painful neuroma in the ball of my left foot. In other words, all the good planning went out of the window. If that wasn't enough, and here my big learning from this race, because I knew I wasn't ready for running 100km or racing well, I slacked off on the few things in my control, leaving all logistics, nutrition and hydration plan, to the last minute without any strategic thinking. It is like my own ego wanted to sabotage my race even further, so I could fully blame the "Gods of good running" for all my misfortune and bad result. It succeeded in sabotaging the race for sure, but the underlying truth made itself evident in the second part of the race.
Getting to the start line healthy and at the peak of your training block is the hardest part of racing.
Registration for races is typically 6-12 months in advance, a considerable amount of time for running niggles, injuries and life to put a spanner in the works.
The Blackall 100 is in early October and I was pretty happy with my progress to June, when I ran a half marathon a day for the whole month as part of my base training. Then I went on a family holiday to Europe for 5 weeks largely overestimating the amount of training I could do, got a second round of Covid which took me a few weeks to shook off and developed a painful neuroma in the ball of my left foot. In other words, all the good planning went out of the window. If that wasn't enough, and here my big learning from this race, because I knew I wasn't ready for running 100km or racing well, I slacked off on the few things in my control, leaving all logistics, nutrition and hydration plan, to the last minute without any strategic thinking. It is like my own ego wanted to sabotage my race even further, so I could fully blame the "Gods of good running" for all my misfortune and bad result. It succeeded in sabotaging the race for sure, but the underlying truth made itself evident in the second part of the race.
LET'S TALK RUNNING!
The weather on race day was perfect. Probably the only dry weekend of the whole month, it was a bit on the warm side of the scale but personally, I much prefer that then a race in the pouring rain.
I got up at 4AM and drove to the start line, to collect my race bib from John who checked me in the previous night. Without much time to spare and chat, the gun went off at 6AM and we got running.
I did well to control my excitement and remain well within myself during the first 10-15km and hold my horses until we hit the trail and entered the forest. 30km into it, it was already obvious I didn't have much to offer to the race today, my stride was short and overly zealous of protecting my painful foot, and I was working hard on every incline. And the climbing had not yet started really.
I had all intentions to climb "The Bluff", the biggest climb of the day at 50km, much stronger than I did in 2021, I knew what to expect this time. Somewhat I succeeded doing this, I am not sure I was much faster than 2021 but I certainly felt less "desperate" during the ascent and kept my heart rate from breaking through record high.
I never ran with poles or other aids, this time, half way up the climb, I grabbed a stick to support my climb and ease the load on my left foot and that felt great. So I grabbed onto it for the next 40km.
After "The Bluff", with 35 km to go, the wheels started coming off. I didn't have much nutrition with me as I was planning to refuel at the aid station but couldn't find anything I liked, I miscalculated the distance between two checkpoints and I ran out of water
The weather on race day was perfect. Probably the only dry weekend of the whole month, it was a bit on the warm side of the scale but personally, I much prefer that then a race in the pouring rain.
I got up at 4AM and drove to the start line, to collect my race bib from John who checked me in the previous night. Without much time to spare and chat, the gun went off at 6AM and we got running.
I did well to control my excitement and remain well within myself during the first 10-15km and hold my horses until we hit the trail and entered the forest. 30km into it, it was already obvious I didn't have much to offer to the race today, my stride was short and overly zealous of protecting my painful foot, and I was working hard on every incline. And the climbing had not yet started really.
I had all intentions to climb "The Bluff", the biggest climb of the day at 50km, much stronger than I did in 2021, I knew what to expect this time. Somewhat I succeeded doing this, I am not sure I was much faster than 2021 but I certainly felt less "desperate" during the ascent and kept my heart rate from breaking through record high.
I never ran with poles or other aids, this time, half way up the climb, I grabbed a stick to support my climb and ease the load on my left foot and that felt great. So I grabbed onto it for the next 40km.
After "The Bluff", with 35 km to go, the wheels started coming off. I didn't have much nutrition with me as I was planning to refuel at the aid station but couldn't find anything I liked, I miscalculated the distance between two checkpoints and I ran out of water
Hanging out with legends
The lead-up to the Noosa Ultra Trail was rough for me. Work commitments, bad weather, and family affairs left me with little time to train, so I put all my bets on quality sessions and a positive mindset.
The day before the race, I was on edge. Did I train enough? Should I race for a time, a position, or just to finish? Then my friend and former running coach Colin texted me out of the blue: "All the best tomorrow. Have fun and keep smiling. The running will look after itself." And just like that, my race plan was set.
On race day, I jogged from home to the start line and it felt great. No need to wake up the family or get a lift, just put my shoes on and go out like any other morning... minus the 100km ahead, of course. I made it to the start line with 10 minutes to spare, just in time to meet some old ultra friends and two phenomenal athletes I have the privilege to coach, Mat and Roxy.
I managed to contain my excitement for the first 10km and settled into a comfortable pace in a gap between runners. But as the temperature started to rise and I ran out of water twice, even though I carried a liter in my overly full and heavy running pack, things started to get tough.
I usually have my race pack, nutrition, and hydration strategy well planned out, but this time I packed my bag the evening before and loaded it with too much extra gear and nutrition. I ended up with a heavy backpack that bruised my hips. All I ended up consuming could have fit in a running belt.
The climb from 50km to 54km was especially difficult, and I struggled to keep momentum as I overheated and walked the whole way up. I kept thinking, "Why don't I ever train for walking hills? Running hills is great when you're fresh!
As I reached the top of the climb, I heard a familiar voice behind me. It was Roxy! She was full of energy and looking much happier than me. We ran together and chatted for the next 10km, but it was clear to me that I was the one struggling to keep up. My legs felt like dead wood and I was fading fast.
At the 64km checkpoint, while I fiddled with my backpack, Roxy disappeared and was nowhere to be seen. She finished in an impressive 10:45, taking first place for female in her very first 100km race. She is incredibly talented, and I'm sure she has a great coach!
The last 36km were runnable, but it was still hot and I was unsure if I could maintain my pace. I kept going, drinking lots and hoping for a second wind from caffeine. With 15km left, I saw an opportunity to sneak under 11 hours and decided to go for it.
Unfortunately, my dreams came crashing down in the final stretch. My watch showed 95km in 10:35, but I knew the distance to the finish was closer to 7km. So I abandoned the chase for an 11-hour finish and just tried to "enjoy" the last bit. To be honest, I don't think I had the legs for it anyway.
My final result was 11:12:15, and I was extremely happy with it.
My sister, Lidia, the kids, and my friends Mark and Jude from Sydney (who both did extremely well in the 50km and 15km races) were there to cheer me on at the finish line. It felt a lot like my first North Face 100 race in 2012.
I have no doubt that the Noosa Ultra Trail will see the same rapid growth. The area is beautiful, the trails are excellent, and the race director is passionate. All the right ingredients are there for success.
ICE BATHS
In the last few months I have been experimenting with ice baths and breath work.
I had one an hour after the race and ... WOW! I ended up staying in for 30 minutes in it until the last bit of ice melted. As a result, that night I slept pretty well instead of wiggling constantly like I would normally do!
Now I'm building one in my office!
In the last few months I have been experimenting with ice baths and breath work.
I had one an hour after the race and ... WOW! I ended up staying in for 30 minutes in it until the last bit of ice melted. As a result, that night I slept pretty well instead of wiggling constantly like I would normally do!
Now I'm building one in my office!
KEEN FOR A RUN AND A CHAT? |
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