A cure for Man Flu and the Lost Worlds of Kuringai

A cure for Man Flu and the Lost Worlds of Kuringai

After a busy week of travelling, I began to feel the beginnings of the dreaded MAN FLU.  As the lovely Cait travelled back and forth from laundry to clothesline with baskets of washing, I barely had the strength to make a coffee.  I was reduced to lying on the couch reading and surfing the internet.  The following link outlines some of the dangers of man flu.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6keUdzwFCHU

However, as I lay wan and pale, I stumbled across a link to a run called "The Lost Worlds of Ku Ring Gai".  mmmmm. Intriguing.  All those ups and downs.  I have been avoiding hills of any kind since running in the Blue Mountains in May, and I knew I needed to get back on that horse.

http://www.coolrunning.com.au/fatass/lostworlds/rundetails.shtml

However, I was suffering from the beginnings of man flu. Was it safe to push myself ?  The results could be tragic.  I could be couch bound forever.  It also meant getting up in the cold and dark when it is common knowledge that the effects of man flu are possibly at their worst.  Setting my alarm for 5 am, I decided to put my body on the line for science to see whether running 50km could cure man flu. 

The alarm rang at 5am, but the man flu laid me low until 5.30.  I had planned to set of by 6, but I needed to down two coffees to raise my caffeine levels to a safe level for physical activity.

Finally, at 6.47, clad in several layers of polypropelene, I was finally ready.  The sun, shivering in the cold, was just peeping out from under its doona as I began trotting along.

sunrise over Mt Kuring-gai

The first few km were as cold as expected, but a little sun soon warmed things up.  I was adding extra distance by running to Berowra, but it was a lovely morning to be out and about.  I arrived at the Community Hall at Berowra, then set off for the Ruined Castle along the fire trails.  No one else was around, and I had the world to myself.

Naa Badu Lookout

I arrived at Berowra Waters, filled my bottles, then strolled down to meet the ferry right on cue.  No waiting.  Brilliant.

I set myself to run the hill up from the ferry without stopping, so I put my little legs into low gear, and off I went.  Thousands of tiny steps later, dripping in sweat, I turned into Chilcott Rd.  Nothing like a good slog up a hill to let you know you're alive.

The last time I ran this stretch to The Ruined Castle it was 8 am New Years Day, I had been drinking, dancing, and partying to the wee hours, it was already well on the way to 30 plus degrees, and I hadn't brought  enough food or water.  So not surprisingly, I suddenly arrived at a front yard with a pair of large dogs eager (growling and barking ferociously) to make my acquaintance, but no trail in sight.  Where the hell was I ? It seemed my memory was playing tricks.  No trail, but oh goody, look at that big hole those two big dogs have just run through and are now hurtling towards me barking and growling.  Time to crouch down and prepare to either be chewed or licked to death.  Here they come...and its going to be...death by licking.  All good.  Grumpy dog owner finally appears to drag his pooches off the sweaty runner man and inform him that there is no trail (with a tone suggesting he would like me to bugger off and he was a bit disappointed his hounds from hell were being so friendly).  Very disappointing.  I had set off on my run happy to be flexible, but I really wanted to get to the ruins if nothing else - but where were they ?

Suddenly I saw a friendly fella walking a small dog.  I trotted back towards him, and his tiny pooch also wanted to eat me, but whilst hiding safely behind his owner (he looked like a cotton bud on a piece of string).  This time I got a nice chat, a local history lesson, and instructions to the right road to run down (McCullums).  I wasn't lost so much as slightly misplaced.  Quick back track 200 metres, a trot down McCullums, and there was the trail.  A few km down to the hill, the views up and down Berowra Creek began to open up, and there were were the ruins.

http://www.coolrunning.com.au/fatass/hq/index.php?title=More_on_The_Ruined_Castle_Of_Calabash 

views to Berowra Waters

looking up Berowra Creek

The Ruined Castle

steps from the ruins down to Calabash Bay and Berowra Waters

After a bit of wandering about and exploring, it was time to head back.  First I had to remove all my warm gear.  One of the benefits of a long run on your own is that you are free to strip down to your undies and dry off a bit.  Heaven.  Thank goodness no bushwalkers suddenly appeared.  Awkward to explain.

The GPS had the distance at about 24km so far.  A  direct return home made 48km.  A full "Lost Worlds of Kuringai" run was looking a bit ambitious about now due to time constraints, not enough nutrition; and despite being a lunatic, I am not completely mad (yet).  Starting from home added just a tad too much distance.  Running the sums in my head had completing the full run at about 70km and about 10 hours of running.  Bugger that.  I just want to cure my man flu, not kill myself.  Time to head home.

Back up the hill from the ruins, then a tro down to the ferry dodging the traffic.  A nice rest in the sun on the way across, a refill of the bottles before a big left turn at the ferry to head up "Kokoda" to Berowra via Turner's Rd.  

Kokoda can either be tackled as a slow slog, or a fast scramble using all fours.  Today was a fast scramble.  However, reaching the top, the kms were beginning to hit the legs. Hitting Turner Road I did have the pleasure of a short rest and a front yard chat with a young Deveney about fairy traps and how to best catch them whilst his Dad and I compared beards.  Then it was time to finish this sucker.

Training is a funny beast.  Sometimes it's lots of happy huffy puffy to keep generally fit and healthy.  Sometimes it's training targeted at a specific area.  I have a longer event coming up soon, and I was targeting "sucky".  That sucky feeling of pushing along when everything is just "sucky" but you just have to gut it out to finish.  By the time I hit Berowra, I was definitely entering the "sucky" zone - and by my best estimate I had a good 10km of sucky training to get back home.  I was not at all disappointed.  It was a truly memorably sucky 10km sucky road slog.  Brilliant.  It totally sucked.  

Hitting my street, the GPS clicked over to 50km.  My wayward wanderings had added enough distance to round things off nicely.  A nice long run, the day was still young, and it seemed like my man flu had been crushed. I had found a cure. Next time I feel the symptoms coming on, I will have to get up before the sun and run around like a crazy man for about 6 1/2 hours.  Worked a treat.

 

GLOW WORM TUNNEL MARATHON WEEKEND 2014

GLOW WORM TUNNEL MARATHON WEEKEND 2014

What a misleading title.  I didn't run the Glow Worm Tunnel Marathon 2014; but camping and hanging out with a bunch of crazy runners from The Berowra Bush Runners was so enjoyable in 2013 I had to return to just hang around and bludge. I had just run The North Face 100 a month ago and not prepared to run a marathon just yet. I also had some unfinished business from 2013.

Last year the run was cut short and we couldn't run all the way to Glen Davis, so I wanted to complete the last 1km section and have a wander around Glen Davis.  Running a marathon I was a tad busy running, and I couldn't stop and take the time to smell the acacia.  I also had to run on the Sunday in 2013 so it was off to bed early with plenty of red left in the bottle. I planned on rectifying all these situations in 2014.

Waking at 4.30am on a freezing cold Saturday to torrential rain I was undaunted (well, maybe a little).  Nonetheless I jumped in the car and headed off.

The pub at Newnes

I arrived at Newnes while the half marathon was happening.  Found where all the gang was camping, grabbed my gear, and set off up the Pipeline Track.  I quickly found out (the hard way - ouch) that since last year a lot of stinging nettles had grown up.  I ran through some the ruins at Newnes but it was a bit too chilly to stop.  Later.  Then it was time to head up the Pipeline Track.

In 2013 the trip up the trail was frustratingly slow (lots of tired runners do that).  Today was a nice steady constant walk to the top.  I had planned a nice rest in the sun at the lookout, but I was dripping with sweat and the wind was freezing.  Maybe on the return trip.

The huge amount of rain had made things a little slippery, and there was lots of leaf litter, but the track was lovely and clear, and a pleasure to run/ walk along, and so very pretty.

Off in the distance I began getting glimpses of Glen Davis.

There was plenty of time today to stop and smell the acacia - and there was plenty of it.  In patches the smell was magnificent.

NPWS websites had told me the last section was closed, and I had head out along the track quite accepting of finishing short.  After being turned around early in last years Glow Worm Tunnel Marathon, I had asked "why".  I had heard tales of shot gun bearing private land holders wearing tin foil to ward off aliens.  Sadly, no such thing occurred.  I simply wandered on into Glen Davis.  I had expected a ghost town, but found instead a small lonely bunch of houses.  Nothing exciting.  The views however, were MAGNIFICENT ! What a valley.

even though it was midday, there was still mist up in the pass

Coco Street was fabulous.  A long strip cut by a ride on mower through metre high grass.

After a bit of wandering around, it was time to head back.  The Glen Davis end has a good old fashioned sign to start you off.  Nothing like a pointy bit of wood and a can of paint.

and off we go

Setting off it was cold, so I had rugged up in thermal leggings.  ooh, so sexy.  I had happily wandered around Glen Davis without getting beaten up, but soon after heading back, it became blazing hot and I had to stop and strip off a bit.  Then it was back to the uphill climb.  Last year I somehow managed to wander off track on the uphill climb.  This year on the way down to Glen Davis I recognised the point where I had veered off to the west.  Made a mental note "don't go the wrong way on the way back".  It was all clearly marked with pink marker ribbon for Sunday's marathon, so surely I couldn't go wrong this year.  Yet somehow on the way back I found myself standing in the same spot having gone wrong in exactly the same spot.  Again.  Honestly I amaze myself sometimes.
 

all that nice down hill is now uphill

When I reached the top of the climb at Pagoda Lookout, it was so much warmer than earlier in the day.  Last year I had raced across to the turnaround, quick photo, then back to the marathon.  Today I was happy to wander around and enjoy the views.  Of which there are plenty.

from Pagoda Lookout

looking down onto the Pipeline Track

Looking down onto the Pipeline Track

Walking down the Pipeline Track looking up to the look out

It is called the Pipeline Track because there used to be a pipe line

As some may be aware, last year when I ran the marathon, I encountered a fellow I dubbed "Marathon Man".  He held up a group of about 20 runners as he meandered and struggled his way down.  This year I hit this section and RAN !! It was a moment of turning back time to right a wrong of the past.  It was lovely and liberating.  Yee haaaaaaaa ! 

the lovely downhill section

After a quick descent to the start of the Pipeline Track, I took time to wander around and explore some of the Newnes ruins.  It was so quiet and green and peaceful.  Just beware the stinging nettles.  I have seen photos of old Newnes as a hub of industry and pollution, and it is so hard to reconcile the past with the present.  Now it is so calm and pretty.

all those lovely ferns and nettles

steps up to what must have been a large house

After several hours of walking and running it was back to the camp site - the most spectacular camp site I have ever seen.  Every time I walked a bit, I turned around to be greeted with a totally new set of views.  Exactly why I wanted to come back this year.  An amazing place. 

The Berowra Bush Runners al camped together

The Berowra Bush Runners camp site

As the sun went down we all sat around and chatted.  Kids ran around everywhere.  Food of all kinds was being consumed in all manner of ways.  Flaming, fiery, blazing marshmallows seemed to be a favourite despite the best efforts of parents to get healthier options on board.  Suddenly the kids were gone.  Then suddenly the adults were gone and I was all alone.  Nothing left for me to do but get out my guitar and finish off the red wine and make it a perfect day.  Which I quite happily did.  Maybe next year we will have a camp fire sing a long.

The next morning was fun as I woke at 5.30, brewed coffee, and wandered off to see the early group head out.  The Race Director had (apparently drunkenly at about midnight) set up the course markers right through the camp site.  It was a fabulous sight as the line of head torches silently ran through the pre dawn camp site.  Then a couple of hours later we all sat in camp chairs with our coffees and clapped them on as they reached the half way mark.  The kids had been given cow bells to ring.  Brilliant fun.

Last year it had been a huge challenge to finish the marathon by 2pm, pack up, drive for 3 hours, get home at 7pm.  This year I left at 10am after the winner had come in, and was home by 1pm.  Far more civilized.  Maybe next year a 6am start after a bottle of red wine and a sing a long could work ? Time will tell.  See you in 2015 at Newnes.

The Pacer’s Tale (Part 1) November 2012

The Pacer’s Tale (Part 1)

November 2012 

Pacing. It’s an interesting word. The dictionary defines it as something like “the even spreading out effort”. However, in the world of ultra running, it means something closer to “silly bugger who hangs out with a tired runner all hours of the night, because after 100km they may be a bit foggy in the head and run into a tree ”.

On a training run along the Great North Walk in April last year, Gav asked me to consider being his pacer for his first 100 miler in the GNW100s in November. I was still training for my first ever marathon in July, so committing to something twice as long (a night run of 75km) seemed foolish at the time (still seems silly actually). So I demurred.

However, time went by, I ran my marathon, couldn’t walk for a week. So when Gav asked again, despite still limping, of course I said “yes”. I had 4 months to recover and train some more, so why not. Let’s see what this old body can do !!

I did have concerns that I am not a very serious fellow. I usually ran in my son’s discarded school sports pants I rescued from the bin, daggy Explorer socks, old t-shirts, a sweatband to keep my headphones from falling out, and a legionnaire’s hat I stole from my preschool. My poor son out with his mates constantly gets asked “hey is that your Dad?”. I think so much about distance running is hilarious – silly clothes, silly food, silly training. I try not to get too serious about it all. Gav, though, was attempting to run 100 miles (possibly no laughing matter), and I was worried I would be more annoying than supportive. But Gav seemed somewhat non-serious too (have you seen those sock things he wears?), and after exchanging a few *knock knock* jokes, all was good (*knock knock* *who’s there* *Keanu* *Keanu who ?* *Keanu believe we are running all the way to Patonga !!*).

In training, we ran together, we ran separately, we swapped Facebook messages. Somehow a joke about a Gorilla on his back turned into discovering an online recipe for Gorilla Bars which became his secret nutrition weapon. I went for my first night run and got scared in the dark. At some point I also ran over 50km for the first time and impressed the hell out of myself.

Eventually the big day arrived. I had planned to arrive at Yarramalong (100km finish) at about 8’ish, but I was tracking Gav’s progress online and having trouble working out whether he was running a 100 miles or a 100 metres. He was flying, so I had to head off early. Leaving early meant that I only had the chance to nervously repack 30 times instead of 50, so probably a good thing. I was developing RSI from checking my pack so many times.

Just before 8.30, word began trickling in that Gav was nearby, and it seemed everyone was asking “are you ready Rob ?”. Well yes I was – except the moment Gav arrived, my glasses snapped in two !! Hey Universe, I am about to run 75km through the dark and this is NOT FUNNY. The lovely Bek, however, whipped out the Elastoplast, and taped them together. We agreed not to tell Gav, and I kept my head down so he wouldn’t notice and get distracted.

Off we went into the night. Gav mentioned that he would like to walk for a bit, which was fine by me. I was the supportive pacer, and was happy to see him eating and drinking. He was very chatty and upbeat as we bounced up Bumble Hill watching a trail of head lamps stretching up the hill. All was looking good (although wearing a headlamp and buggered wonky glasses was not the best experience of my life). Other runners were around, and we had a few chats along the way. An owl was hooting up a storm, and it was a special feeling.

However, the “walk for a bit” seemed to go for a while, and the pair of us kept trying to get a trot going. The trots never seemed to last long, and I repeatedly looked back to see a silent circle of light pointing straight down at the ground accompanied by weird whale like noises– not good. But we kept on moving. However, I knew he was going through some mind games, because if he put on/ took off his jacket one more time and fussed about putting it into his belt a certain way I was going to choke him with it (but being supportive I just tied it back into his belt, knowing full well he would probably remove it again several minutes later). The night was also very misty, and because I was scared to remove my glasses to wipe them in case they fell apart, I was half blind. I collected more than one low hanging vine during the rainforest sections because I couldn’t look up.

I have to be honest and say that whilst I appreciated that Gav was definitely in the hurt locker, I was having an absolute ball. Owls, bandicoots, chatting with other runners – it was incredible fun.

Check Point 5 with my amazing eye wear

After many an hour we arrived at Checkpoint 5-Somersby. I suspected our 30 hour finish was gone, but no worries. I felt fine. More concerning was Gavin’s chattering teeth. It was cool, and Gav couldn’t move fast enough to keep warm. After some soup and a rug, we set off at about 3 am, but after about 5km, when we had left the bitumen and were hitting the track proper, it was crunch time. I was pretty sure what was going through his head, but was never going to say it to him; but through chattering teeth Gav made the call to call it quits. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard that must have been. For some reason he began apologising for “only” running 140km and letting me down – that’s the kind of weird stuff runners say.

We made it back to the bitumen, Bek collected us, and Gav was asleep soon after. I was nodding off too after walking a midnight marathon.

Maybe Gav should have slept more before the race. Maybe he should have run the first 100km slower. Maybe a longer rest at Yarramalong or Somersby. Maybe I should have slapped him with his jacket. Maybe some better *knock knock* jokes. Maybe maybe maybe. These are things to think about later. I, however, had an absolute blast, and an experience I will never, ever forget or regret. Thanks Gav and Bek !! Maybe 2013.

GLOW WORM TUNNEL MARATHON June 2013

GLOW WORM TUNNEL MARATHON

June 2013

 

The Glow Worm Tunnel Marathon is not just a run - it is an experience.  Everything about it is special.  For starters, the drive up is a great trip (especially if you go Bells Line of Road).  Then dropping down into Wolgan Valley, you are greeted by incredible sandstone cliffs.  However, at some point you realise "I have to run up those tomorrow" which starts the butterflies in the tummy.

A gang of Berowra Bush Runners departed on our epic adventure Saturday morning.  It was like a school camp for grown ups, complete with tents, packs, stoves, way too much food, and some secret stashes of wine and beer.  There was also lots of giggling, but I suspect that was because I was travelling with Bek and Justine (they asked me to stop but I was too excited - hee hee - us girls).  I joined the Bush Runners to meet some folk as crazy as me, and I think it has worked out well.

Upon arrival in Newnes, we parked at the camp ground and headed off to register.  Maybe the big difference between Glow Worm and other events became noticeable here.  As we wandered along, the 6km runners came around the bend, but there was no fanfare as they ran between folk out for a stroll.  There were kids everywhere.  Wombats and kangaroos were wandering the camp ground.  Ruby Muir (next days Women's race winner) was having a quiet beer and Bek simply wandered over and had a chat.  Folk were sitting on the verandah of the pub drinking.  It was all very relaxing and communal.

After registration we wandered back and set up our tent city as darkness fell -  and so did the temperature and the mist. bbbbrrrrr. Very chilly.  Good thing we had plently of food and wine.  We also took the time to apply our PEK - Performance Enhancing Kokopelli temporary tattoos from "Trail Runner Nation" (a website filled with amazing info for runners of all kinds).  Kokopelli are deities associated with trails and travelling throughout the Americas.   They are also associated with fertility, but what happens on the trail stays on the trail.  Do they really enhance performance ? Again, what happens on the trail.........

At about 9.00 we all suddenly announced "I'm off to bed" - a decision shared by many, as the whole campground suddenly went from noisy to completely dark and silent.  

6 am.  Alarm goes off in the dark, and time to rise and shine and shiver, and whip up hot coffee.  At this point I will confess to trying something new race day.  A sin, but forgive me Lord.  The previous night I had been introduced to the famous Lynette Hodder fruit cake, and I woke up wanting more.  Jeff kindly allowed me to cut off several big slabs, and I was ready to run.

Did I mention the cold ?  Tip for next year, sleep in race gear.  Stripping down to change was quite an experience. 

Then off to the marshalling area.  This was the pointy end.  There is a bunch of mandatory gear to carry if weather bad, but weather was good so that reduced the need to carry a bunch of heavy bulky stuff.  Dumped it all into a drop bag. An instant mood enhancer.  We lined up.  Hooter sounded.  Off we went. 

I had been wearing a warm top, but Ted West told me to strip it off and leave it.  I was reluctant, but about 2km into the race I was thanking him.  We hit those hills and I was surrounded by endless complaints about having dressed too warmly.  I like to research a course before running it, and I knew there was a lot of climbing, but had no appreciation of just how much and how steep.  Thank goodness for all my love of bushwalking, and a passion for hills, because I needed all of it.  Straight up using hands in some places.  Some eager folk were keen to power on, but other folk like me were happy to let them pass.  Some days it pays to be older and wiser.  

the first big climb

Eventually I reached the top, and was greeted by spectacular views.  A small "out and back" took us to the cliff edge, where some took time to take in calories, fluids, and the amazing scenery.  One of the many reasons this course is special.  Some rushed through as if saving two minutes was that important.  A handy tip is that if you arrive at a check point at the same time as me, you ain't gunna be in the lead, and you ain't gunna win.  So relax and enjoy the view.

the out and back section

At this point I began overtaking some human trail wreckage as the steep climb began to take its toll.  I also began to match pace with a lovely lady.  It is amazing how you can spend a whole day with an unknown trail buddy in longer events without a single word being spoken.  We leap frogged the entire course until at 33km she finally introduced herself, we laughed about running together the whole time, then she dropped me like a hot potato and beat me by miles.  Talking to others out on the trail, I was amazed at how many first time marathoners were in the event.  I was having a good day, so if my race report makes it all sound easy, it wasn't.  I'm just a good liar.  I can't imagine what tackling this course would be like for a first marathon.  I cried during my first one, and it was all flat.  Some seriously brave people were doing this run. If this had been my first marathon I don't think I would have finished.

At the first turnaround at 10km, a polite voice said "hello Rob. Having fun ? Touch the post, and then you can run back"  It was Kevin Heaton from the BushRunners in his Race Marshall role.  I politely thanked him, and began the return.  It was a long uphill walk at this point, so time to nibble and sip for a while.  I did get yelled at by a Race Marshall for going the wrong way. Man, I get lost anywhere.

On the return trip I encountered a fellow I shall call "Marathon Man".  Marathon Man has run over 100 marathons.  I know this because he told everyone repeatedly as we formed a queue behind him on the downhill run.  He also regaled us with endless stats about all his marathons as the queue grew longer.  No one could pass Marathon Man, and I was concerned that someone would eventually shove him over a cliff, yelling out stats as he plummeted to his doom.  Eventually, however, the trail widened and we sneaked past him.

At the halfway aid station I took the time to enjoy some banana and watermelon, have a drink, and fill my bottle.  Quite a few ripped past me, splashed acrossed the river, and disappeared.  Let me modestly say, that they too became trail wreckage I easily passed soon after.  If you seriously think that saving 2 minutes in the course of a five to six hour run is worth it, think again.  It helps to eat and drink during a 6 hour run.

views over Wolgan Valley on trail up to the Glow Worm Tunnel

the trail up to the tunnel

I had a few race goals.  Sub 6 hour would be nice.  Halfway in 3:13 had me pleased.  I knew the first half was way slower and harder than the second, and I still had plenty in the tank. My other goal was to really enjoy the run.  I did not want to finish like a train wreck.  I was really trying hard to operate at a certain level of effort, and I felt really good so far. That had me pleased too.  I was taking photos and chatting along the way and having a great day.  I was even stopping bushwalkers to take my picture.  I'm sure they loved being accosted by a small sweaty hairy stinky man.

The Glow Worm Tunnel

Climbing up to the Glow Worm Tunnel is fairly steady - old rail lines are like that !  I do enjoy hills, and this is a goody.  The Tunnel was cold and dark and spooky and fun.  A bit more uphill running, then straight down to the last Checkpoint at 35km.  At this point the steep downhill sections started to hit the quads, so I backed off a touch until the checkpoint, where I had a last drink.  Then just as I was leaving the CP, I heard a loud yelling. OMG.  The return of Marathon Man.  He caught me up and began shouting about his 5:02min/km he had just run, compared it to last years time, and began spouting countless details about last years run legs compared to his times this year.  I offered to let him past, but he stuck on me like a tick.  Finally we hit an uphill and I gave decide to give it everything I had, and managed to leave him behind.  His 5:02 downhill sprint didn't help much at that point.

This left 6km of absolute serenity to finish.  The last stretch down to the finish was easily the loveliest running I have ever enjoyed in my life.  Flat trail, soft grass, warm sun, running beside a beautiful river.  Hurting, yes, but good hurting.  I could have run all day at this point (once again, I lie).  Saw Kevin sweeping the course, looking happy to be alive.  FYI, a sweeper runs the trail last to make sure no one is left out there, and to inform some runners that they have not made the cut off, and are out of the run.  I was sure he was going to have some clientele.  Eventually I crossed the river, was greeted by my screaming wife who had driven up for the finish, so I cracked it for a big sprint finish to show off.  As usual I forgot to turn off the GPS, but apparently I had run a fruit cake powered 6:01:55, so was delighted with my days work. 

After several minutes of cuddles and chatting with the lovely wife Caiti, and tracking down my lovely trail buddy who had beaten me home by a long way, there was a shout as a runner crossed the line and collapsed.  Marathon Man had arrived, but was beyond speech (for a while at least). 

Looking forward to Glow Worm 2014 already !!