2023 - Brisbane Valley Railway Trail 100miles
Endurance running strikes a delicate balance between the elements I both adore and detest about this sport. The Brisbane Valley Railway Trail 100-mile race proved no different. It was an emotional odyssey, streaked with moments of raw pain and pure joy, threads of camaraderie and desperation, all culminating in sweet victory. That victory, I owe entirely to my steadfast crew - Woz, the unrivaled commander of support, and Gary, the mastermind of pacing and tranquility. Their relentless positivity propelled me forward.
The Course ran along the disused Brisbane Valley rail line, connecting Yarraman to Ipswich. Mostly a broad, hard gravel road, the course weaves through the heart of the Brisbane valley, crossing farmlands, forests, charming rural landscapes, and quaint towns. The race director's pre-race words still echo in my mind: trains traverse flat or gentle slopes. That implies the Brisbane Valley Rail Track (BVRT) is a speedy course, if you can hold it together!
The Course ran along the disused Brisbane Valley rail line, connecting Yarraman to Ipswich. Mostly a broad, hard gravel road, the course weaves through the heart of the Brisbane valley, crossing farmlands, forests, charming rural landscapes, and quaint towns. The race director's pre-race words still echo in my mind: trains traverse flat or gentle slopes. That implies the Brisbane Valley Rail Track (BVRT) is a speedy course, if you can hold it together!
0km to 70km - Riding High!
The race kicked off at 6 am, with a chill in the air that had me layered like an onion ready for a ski trip: beanie, neck warmer, gloves, thermals, the works. Like the other 40 runners, I chose not to dwell on the cold, my thoughts instead drifting to the six courageous souls who'd begun their 200-mile journey 30 hours earlier.
Even with gloves, the cold soon numbed my hands, making it difficult to check my watch or access my nutrition and hydration. I chose to focus on forging ahead and regulating my breathing, which felt like puffing on a pipe. Free of distractions, the first 19km checkpoint came and went in a blink. My legendary support team had my backpack exchange ready at the checkpoint, and I was back on the trail in a mere 30 seconds.
With the rising temperature, my spirits and pace elevated too. I found my rhythm on the 20km of gradual downhill, reaching the marathon mark right on pace, for another speedy pit-stop.
In endurance running, smooth sailing in the initial 60km does not guarantee a breeze for the remaining 100km! When it does, it's typically the exception. External or internal challenges - terrain, weather, checkpoint mishaps, nutrition, hydration, mindset or body weaknesses - often demand to be tamed. For me, it was the latter, an untreated pain in my left hip flexor surfacing far too soon. I say 'untreated' because I had faced the same issue during the Noosa Ultra Trail in March but had dismissed it as a one-day imbalance.
71km to 120km - When The Going Gets Tough!
The combination of my escalating hip flexor pain, radiating down to my knee, the midday heat on the exposed trail, and a misunderstanding regarding the distance to the next checkpoint, put me in a mental tailspin, slowing my pace considerably.
Upon reaching the 77km checkpoint, I hunched over in the shade for a breather, while Woz rejuvenated me with a wet towel and Gary kept time, ensuring I got back on track before I got too comfortable
The subsequent 20km to the next checkpoint felt endless. My hip flexor and knee pain had forced me to shorten my stride and frequently switch to walking. When I finally made it to the 96km checkpoint, unsurprisingly, I opted for a brief 5-minute timeout to lay down and attempt a mental reset.
Although it was still daylight, I packed my head torch and thermal gear - from that point on, anything could happen. However, I wasn't alone in facing the remaining 65km of the race, as Gary would begin his pacing duty.
Despite Gary's easygoing chatter, his positive energy, and cool demeanour, I felt fairly miserable for the 25km to the next checkpoint. I frequently stopped to stretch my leg, and my running had reduced to a brisk walk at best. So, I resolved to take some paracetamol around 6 PM, hoping it would help me overcome the pain cave enough to keep moving - a measure I only resort to in extreme cases and am not particularly proud of.
120km to 156km - A Glimmer of Hope!
Upon reaching the 120km checkpoint, I immediately sought the mat to lie down for another 5 minutes, hoping to reset my mind once again. The familiar smell of cauliflower pasta warming up on the camping stove was a welcome revival. It's my go-to meal for long races: the taste, texture, and nutrition packed into every scoop offers a refreshing break from a day of sandwiches, power bars, gels, and carbohydrate and electrolyte drinks.
I set off from the checkpoint, feeling rejuvenated and ran strongly for several kilometres before settling into a more conservative pace. The pain in my hip flexor and knee was now manageable, but fatigue was creeping in, causing me to shuffle my feet and kick rocks. This, I knew, could lead to one thing, and sure enough, before long, I stumbled and found myself on all fours.
Throughout my moments of negativity, Gary maintained his calm, never indulging in my pessimism, not after my fall, my complaints about the remaining distance, or my misjudging the distance to the next and last checkpoint. His patience and skills as a pacer (his first experience being a pacer, and mine having one) are truly remarkable.
Around the 135km mark, we overtook a runner in the miler race, a small victory that boosted my confidence. With renewed energy, I pushed on to the last checkpoint at 136km, where I indulged in another 2-minute power nap and a pasta refill.
156km to 161km - The Final Stretch!
At 156km, the finish line felt within reach, and something in my mind clicked. I picked up the pace, each kilometre more purposeful than the last, culminating in a full sprint for the final kilometre.
There was no fanfare at the finish chute, only one other runner who had finished 4 minutes before me placing second. Meaning that, to my complete surprise, I ended up third with a final time of 17hours and 3 minutes.
In Reflection - A Day of Challenges and Triumphs
There's no denying it - this was a tough day at the office. Yet, the hardships were countered with camaraderie and friendship. Gary and Woz, my unwavering support crew, were there with me every step of the way, their dedication and encouragement unyielding. Their presence reminded me that I wasn't running this race for myself alone, but also for them.
As always, the thought of my wife and kids, following my progress from back home, gave me strength and motivation, in the most challenging moments.
And In the end, it was well worth the struggle. Because it's not just about crossing the finish line, it's really about the journey to get there, the people who are there with you, and the connections that are strengthened along the way.
And sometimes, that's all we can ask for, and all we should be grateful for. This is where we find our true strength and realise that we can push beyond our perceived limits, not just for ourselves, but for those who believe in us.
The race kicked off at 6 am, with a chill in the air that had me layered like an onion ready for a ski trip: beanie, neck warmer, gloves, thermals, the works. Like the other 40 runners, I chose not to dwell on the cold, my thoughts instead drifting to the six courageous souls who'd begun their 200-mile journey 30 hours earlier.
Even with gloves, the cold soon numbed my hands, making it difficult to check my watch or access my nutrition and hydration. I chose to focus on forging ahead and regulating my breathing, which felt like puffing on a pipe. Free of distractions, the first 19km checkpoint came and went in a blink. My legendary support team had my backpack exchange ready at the checkpoint, and I was back on the trail in a mere 30 seconds.
With the rising temperature, my spirits and pace elevated too. I found my rhythm on the 20km of gradual downhill, reaching the marathon mark right on pace, for another speedy pit-stop.
In endurance running, smooth sailing in the initial 60km does not guarantee a breeze for the remaining 100km! When it does, it's typically the exception. External or internal challenges - terrain, weather, checkpoint mishaps, nutrition, hydration, mindset or body weaknesses - often demand to be tamed. For me, it was the latter, an untreated pain in my left hip flexor surfacing far too soon. I say 'untreated' because I had faced the same issue during the Noosa Ultra Trail in March but had dismissed it as a one-day imbalance.
71km to 120km - When The Going Gets Tough!
The combination of my escalating hip flexor pain, radiating down to my knee, the midday heat on the exposed trail, and a misunderstanding regarding the distance to the next checkpoint, put me in a mental tailspin, slowing my pace considerably.
Upon reaching the 77km checkpoint, I hunched over in the shade for a breather, while Woz rejuvenated me with a wet towel and Gary kept time, ensuring I got back on track before I got too comfortable
The subsequent 20km to the next checkpoint felt endless. My hip flexor and knee pain had forced me to shorten my stride and frequently switch to walking. When I finally made it to the 96km checkpoint, unsurprisingly, I opted for a brief 5-minute timeout to lay down and attempt a mental reset.
Although it was still daylight, I packed my head torch and thermal gear - from that point on, anything could happen. However, I wasn't alone in facing the remaining 65km of the race, as Gary would begin his pacing duty.
Despite Gary's easygoing chatter, his positive energy, and cool demeanour, I felt fairly miserable for the 25km to the next checkpoint. I frequently stopped to stretch my leg, and my running had reduced to a brisk walk at best. So, I resolved to take some paracetamol around 6 PM, hoping it would help me overcome the pain cave enough to keep moving - a measure I only resort to in extreme cases and am not particularly proud of.
120km to 156km - A Glimmer of Hope!
Upon reaching the 120km checkpoint, I immediately sought the mat to lie down for another 5 minutes, hoping to reset my mind once again. The familiar smell of cauliflower pasta warming up on the camping stove was a welcome revival. It's my go-to meal for long races: the taste, texture, and nutrition packed into every scoop offers a refreshing break from a day of sandwiches, power bars, gels, and carbohydrate and electrolyte drinks.
I set off from the checkpoint, feeling rejuvenated and ran strongly for several kilometres before settling into a more conservative pace. The pain in my hip flexor and knee was now manageable, but fatigue was creeping in, causing me to shuffle my feet and kick rocks. This, I knew, could lead to one thing, and sure enough, before long, I stumbled and found myself on all fours.
Throughout my moments of negativity, Gary maintained his calm, never indulging in my pessimism, not after my fall, my complaints about the remaining distance, or my misjudging the distance to the next and last checkpoint. His patience and skills as a pacer (his first experience being a pacer, and mine having one) are truly remarkable.
Around the 135km mark, we overtook a runner in the miler race, a small victory that boosted my confidence. With renewed energy, I pushed on to the last checkpoint at 136km, where I indulged in another 2-minute power nap and a pasta refill.
156km to 161km - The Final Stretch!
At 156km, the finish line felt within reach, and something in my mind clicked. I picked up the pace, each kilometre more purposeful than the last, culminating in a full sprint for the final kilometre.
There was no fanfare at the finish chute, only one other runner who had finished 4 minutes before me placing second. Meaning that, to my complete surprise, I ended up third with a final time of 17hours and 3 minutes.
In Reflection - A Day of Challenges and Triumphs
There's no denying it - this was a tough day at the office. Yet, the hardships were countered with camaraderie and friendship. Gary and Woz, my unwavering support crew, were there with me every step of the way, their dedication and encouragement unyielding. Their presence reminded me that I wasn't running this race for myself alone, but also for them.
As always, the thought of my wife and kids, following my progress from back home, gave me strength and motivation, in the most challenging moments.
And In the end, it was well worth the struggle. Because it's not just about crossing the finish line, it's really about the journey to get there, the people who are there with you, and the connections that are strengthened along the way.
And sometimes, that's all we can ask for, and all we should be grateful for. This is where we find our true strength and realise that we can push beyond our perceived limits, not just for ourselves, but for those who believe in us.
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