Tuesday 26 March 2019

GNW100 2018

GNW100

I press the small pair of scissors to the end of my toe, press, cut, and a rush of ooze floods out.  Three weeks since the GNW100, and there goes the last reminder.  Time to write.

2013 - paced 75km at GNW
2014 - paced 75km at GNW
2015 - paced 75km at GNW
2016 - attempted GNW100 miler.  Sleep and inexperience stopped me at Somersby (130km down, 40km to go).
2017 - injured (went for a nice walk on GNW instead)

All these years hanging around the GNW100s, and never finished an event.

2018 - entered GNW100km

I delayed entering for a bunch of reasons.  Changing banks and other financial matters meant keeping a lid on expenses for a while.  Definitely wasn't sure whether I had trained enough, or whether I would have the chance to train enough.

In the end, I raised the subject with the lovely Cait who told me in no uncertain terms "Just enter.  You are driving me nuts.  It will be good for you".  It still took me another month of procrastinating/ deliberating/ worrying before I clicked the magic button though.  I think I think too much.

Leading into the event, I was still worried about my training.  Running was mostly confined to 20/30km runs on the weekends, some bike riding, some walking.  However, I felt fit as a fiddle and injury free, and was confident.  

I never really stop training and exercising.  The only thing missing was long long runs.  However, as time goes by, I am less convinced that they add anything really to my fitness.  They just seem to add to my level of tiredness and soreness.  Over recent years, for a variety of reasons, I have been prioritising sleep, rest, recovery.  I was about to put this line of thinking to the test. 

Unable to get a Friday off work, I compromised by swapping to an early shift.  This was to come back and haunt me, but at least it got me on the road to Teralba with enough time to drop off the Toyota ECHO at the finish line, then off for dinner and wine with the lovely Cait.  Back at the airBnB, I laid out my gear, mixed my Tailwind, then had a glass of champagne and watched as the Melbourne Storm beat my Rabbitohs by a point.  Then I slept like a baby and woke up just before my 4.45am alarm. 

Attempting the 100 miler in 2016, I had written out a lovely race plan which I had dug out of my files for this run.  Did I mention I think too much ? For my 2018 plan I kept the times, but removed all those energy bars and gels that I had barely looked at two years ago and had just been dead weight or remained in drop bags.  Last time I had either finished a leg carrying too much water, or not enough.  This time I started with 1L Tailwind, and two small empty plastic bottles with Tailwind powder.  My drop bags were simply taped shut plastic shopping bags with a few GU's and Clif bars along the way, and old Coke bottles of premixed Tailwind that went into the bin at the check points.  I refilled my small water bottles at the check points.  Simples. 

My race plan was basically 30km - 20km - 30km - 20km. 5 hrs - 3 hrs - 5 hrs - 3 hrs.  The purists will dispute these times and distances, but I was keeping this as simple as possible.  A sketch plan as opposed to a complex work of art.  I have learned that (for me) a detailed plan only leads to confusion.  The times added up to 16 hours, but I knew this wasn't happening.  Realistically 16.5 - 17.5 hours.  In the end though, I didn't really care.  Just finish.   

The big day dawned.  Actually I was up before dawn applying lubricant to “those areas” and taping my nipples.  The big day didn't really dawn until we were parking at Teralba.  After a no fuss check in, weigh in, and distributing of drop bags, it was time for a quiet chat with a few folk, and then we were off.  

6am - START

The 30km to Check Point 1 was fairly uneventful.  Last night’s enormous storms had turned the rainforest section to mud and slush, but not too bad.  The track trail dips in and out of gullies and creeks and crosses fire trails.  A few tricky points.  Just as I was congratulating myself on being so trail savvy, I fell for the trick of following another runner as they headed off course.  A voice yelled "to the right" just as I was heading left into nowhere. Oops.  I acted nonchalant and put on my best "of course we go right" face and carried on.  

Check Point 1 - 30km - 10.35am - 4.35 hours

In and out in 11 minutes.  As I was leaving I saw a handful of chips on a plate which I chomped down.  The memory of those chips stayed with me the whole next leg.  I was delirious with the desire for more.

I know it sounds weird to most, but I was so enjoying myself.  I find running these events so relaxing.  I spend so much of my life having every decision questioned, needing to justify every choice, every decision by committee.  Out here, if I screw up, it is my problem and mine only, with no recriminations.  Just the way I like it.  I am such an introvert.  The sun was shining, the weather was cool, I was in heaven.  

I reached the point where I had bumped into Steph last year when I was injured and just out walking.  I had given her a big hug.  That moment came back to me and I remembered how much I wished I was running - and now here I was !  I had a big mental lift and trotted along happily.  This section is just a lovely long run past grass trees, orchids, views across the Hunter Valley, gum trees, fascinating rock formations, then a nice single trail descent down to the Congewai Valley.  Two years ago it had been hot and I had run out of water.  This year it was cool and I had plenty of water.  I felt pretty good, but along the way caught up with friend Jeff trudging along at an angle from muscle issues.  Last week I had been bandaging his head after he ran into a branch and sliced himself open; this week I was offering commiserations.  Several years ago he had come across a large red bellied black snake and walked into a tree as we walked together. He must hate the sight of me sometimes.  I eventually trotted on towards CP 2 at Congewai School.

Check Point 2 -  24.0km (53.9 total) - 2.01pm - 3.26 hours

WHERE ARE MY CHIPS ! I WANT CHIPS ! No chips.  Sad face emoji.  Next year I'm putting chips in my drop bag.  Another lesson learned.  All on offer was sweet and sticky and not what I wanted.

In and out in 14 minutes.  Chatted with Gav who had DNF'ed.  Chatted with Kevin who had finished his 50km event and was looking disgustingly relaxed and fresh.  Listened to chatter about heading off to the pub for a beer and chips.  It was a real effort not to say "#metoo".  Instead I ate a few chunks of banana and went off for a gear check prior to departure.

The first mission was the climb to the Communications Tower.  Every time I do this I forget how long it is.  At the top another runner was collapsed.  He remarked "I always forget how big that climb is".  I replied "because if we remembered we would never leave the check point".  A few were sitting actually.  I have long ago resolved not to sit.  It wastes too much time.  Better to walk along slowly and address most needs.  At this point I discovered that the salted caramel GU that I have become quite fond of has extra salt and caffeine.  A nice thing to discover as I sucked one back.

A few other thoughts began going through my mind at this point.  I have recently read a book called "ENDURE" by Alex Hutchison.  Tests with endurance runners show we may only lose about 25% of muscle function in our legs - maybe as low as 10%.  Yep, so much is in our heads.  I trotted on with this thought in mind.  Yes, it was beginning to hurt, but suck it up buttercup.

The other thought was how slow people walk.  I was definitely taking walking breaks, but as briskly as possible. I passed so many just meandering.  Maybe they were that tired, but they just didn't look it.  To each their own I guess.

Before long I was dropping down into the Watagan Valley, which meant it was then time to climb out of the Watagan Valley.  On a training run a few weeks back I discovered a new trail section had been added to avoid an older, extremely eroded section.  I wasn't sure which way the "official" course went.  For variety I went the new way up a set of switchbacks that seemed to add a bit of distance, before rejoining the trail, very eroded and very steep.

There are some things that burn into your brain.  Brain research uses the expression "what fires together, wires together".  In 2016 I had run this section just as the sun was setting, and it has remained a most vivid memory.  In contemplating this run, this section most haunted me.  I would sit on the train coming home from work, watching the sun set, thinking this is just how the sun will be setting as I run past Mt Warrawolong along the Bar Trail - and it all happened exactly as I had envisaged.  It was like being in the middle of some amazing wide awake dream.  I stopped for a while to enjoy the moment and dig out my head torch in readiness for darkness to descend. A couple of super fit guys ran past and I tagged on behind them.  Eventually they stopped to rest and eat, but I carried on in the last of the available light, delaying using my head torch until the last possible moment.

The sun disappeared just as I left the single trail and reached the intersection of Walker's Ridge and Kangaroo Point trails.  In previous years I had variously been somewhat lost, or following behind others in a mix of hopefulness (that they knew where they were going) and confusion (because I had no idea).  Several weeks previously I had spent a few hours along this section knowing I would be travelling in darkness, so this time I knew exactly where I was and where I was going.    

Night running is mostly a blast.  It can be extremely calming in its own surreal way.  It is definitely far more enjoyable when you know the trail, because perception of time and distance can go completely out the window.  During the day you see the sun, clouds, trees, the sky.  In the dark it can be one long tunnel, sometimes with little eyes looking back, the thumping of marsupial feet off into the night.  However, it is not a good place to flashback to a nightmare from several nights previous that you had forgotten about until this moment alone in the dark.  Pushing it to the back of my mind, I kept on going.

Last time I remember a huge lift as I entered the rainforest stretch to The Basin (Check Point 3). This year not so much, but I was looking forward to only 20km to go, hot soup, popping on the thermal top in my drop bag (I am crap in the cold), and maybe a few salty chips.  These thoughts kept me ticking along nicely.  Passed the turn off heading up the hill that I would return to after visiting CP3.

Check Point 3 - 30.4km (84.3km total) - 7.37pm - 5.36hrs

CP3 was fairly quiet.  A plethora of kindly folk offered assistance, but I just wanted to sit a while.  I did accept the kind offer of soup though, but as I sat and sipped I became massively dizzy and light headed as my blood pressure dropped.  Whew !  It seemed to pass, but as I stood it returned.  Nothing to do but sit and wait.  Eventually all came good and I began asking about chips.  "Would you like potatoes and salt ?" uurgh. No thanks.  Cake, slice, chocolate, lollies ? Puke no!  Alright then, more soup.  I was kindly offered salt, but declined.  Idiot.  One sip and my body screamed "SALT SALT SALT".  I added salt, finished my soup, then headed off for more.  Body gets what the body wants.  I was in CP3 for 20 minutes, but what a wonderful 20 minutes.

Salty soup cravings satisfied, warm top on, dizzy head cleared, good to go.

The return to the turn off point took forever, but the climb out was much quicker than I remembered.  If my brain was beginning to play tricks on me, at least it was making the hills smaller.  As I climbed I met up with a 100 mile runner. He looked good, but after a few minutes conversation I suspected he was calling it quits at Yarramalong (100km finish line).  As we climbed and chatted we saw a head torch coming down towards us.  Suspecting injury I asked "are you OK. Do you need help ?"  The poor bugger asked if the turn off to The Basin was far.  He had gone up the hill at the turn off instead of passing straight through.  Who knows how far he had climbed before realising his mistake.  We gave him instructions, and he continued down the hill.  My heart broke a little for him.

At the top of the climb I left my 100 miler buddy who was happy to walk.  It was about here that my two days of early mornings and busy lifestyle began to catch up with me.  Sleepy brain = slow legs.  I was not overly concerned though.  I was feeling good and could smell the barn.  

The last 11km road section arrived.  The local area was having a scarecrow competition.  Large figures with pumpkin heads began appearing in the darkness scaring the life out of me.  I was getting a bit loopy and this didn't help.  I was beginning to hallucinate, and see creepy masses of shiny spider in patterns in the bitumen road. Hallucinations are just part and parcel of extreme endurance events.  I even bent down to have a closer look.  They disappeared upon closer inspection, but returned when I stood up again.  I noticed a head torch approaching behind me.  Just as it drew alongside and I was about to say "hi", a blast of music so loud that it had a physical impact exploded from the house beside us.  We both jumped several metres and piss bolted away at top speed not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or hide silently under a bush from machete wielding locals.  WTF !  Eventually we slowed and calmed and agreed that it was more than a bit creepy.  He pushed on and I was alone once more.  I was reminded of the saying "you don't need to be faster than the lion, only faster than the slowest gazelle".  I kept my pace up a bit longer and postponed a walking break.

Check Point 4 - Yarramalong - 20km (104.3 total) - 11.50pm - 4.14hrs

About 3km to go I checked the time.  Whilst I had no real time goals, I realised that I was likely to finish after 18 hours.  A little voice in my head said "no way".  Who knows what will happen to all those pumpkin heads after midnight!  I did my ultra running best to fire up the after burners, and began shuffling as fast as my skinny little pegs would go.  The last bend and hill appeared and I hit that finish line in 17:50.  Not bad for an under trained runner.  I had wanted to explore whether a good fitness base as opposed to endless training runs would work.  It did ! If I was after a killer time or a podium finish, perhaps not, but that wasn't my goal.  I finished tired, but injury free (blisters don't count and pain don't hurt – and I actually managed 3rd in my age group – hilarious).   

Checked into the finish area, collected my medal, then wandered down to the food area.  No one to meet me, no fanfare, just a bunch of old mates singing along to John Denver songs and manning the aid station. The glamorous life of a mid pack ultra runner. I jumped into warmer clothes from my drop bag before hypothermia set in (I could feel the shivers starting). I brewed up a super strong coffee to wake me up for the drive home.  As I sipped, a huge blast shattered the calm and we all looked around.  An old mate said "bloke across the road.  Got a shot gun.  Doesn't like John Denver". Really ?. No shit. I was awake now, and it was time to go before someone died.  

Until 2019