The long journey back at the Alpine Challenge 100km

1 week ago I ran my personal best distance-wise for almost a year. It wasn't my fastest time by a long shot, but given the terrain, the absolute remoteness and self-reliance expected, and where I was at with my body and on-going achilles niggle, I was stoked just to make it back to the finish line. Even better, I felt strong, happy, and as if I could've run a little further.

It's an old story. The one of injury. Every runner will experience it at some stage, whether it's a toenail that falls off, a scratch or scrape, or something more insidious like an ITB inflammation or the dreaded achilles tendonopathy. When injury happens to you as a runner though, the implications become personal. No longer are you able to enjoy what gave you the most pleasure, that sense of freedom not found elsewhere. I would also argue that it is hard for non-runners to understand the absense of running in one's life.

For the last 3 months I have been carefully managing this niggle. Some days are great and I can run carefree, other days a simple 40min run at an easy pace really aggravates the injury. There is no rhyme or reason, just management and celebration after every run. Luckily, hiking hills and downhill running didn't seem to cause any problems, and so this is where I have focused my efforts! Going into this race I was really nervous of my own capabilities: the longest training run I had completed was 34km, so 100km seemed like a very long distance all of a sudden!

The Alpine Challenge 100km was a race I really wanted to do. I really wanted to run in the Australian Alps, to run in our own unique Alpine landscape. And it was an amazing journey. For the first 50km I was mostly running with a few friends, enjoying the scenery and being careful with my achilles. For the second 50km I was alone, surrounded by true mountain weather - mist, rain, passing sunshine, and feeling stronger as I got closer to the finish.

The team (myself, Nick, my sister Thea, and my brother Werner) at the Tawonga Gap lookout before race day:

Race morning, 4:15am, with Matt Cooper, feeling pretty surreal in the dark:

Waiting at the start:

The Victorian Alps waking up, a beautiful morning for running (photo: Werner)

Arriving on the summit of Mt Bogong. 35km and 6 hours later.. (Photos: Werner):  

Quick check-in with my crew - here with my lovely sister Thea:

  

Heading off from the second checkpoint at Langford's Gap (at 63km). By now the weather had changed and it was cold and rainy (Photos: Werner):

Tawonga Hut at 78km -  I had a quick check-in with my crew before the final leg of the race (Photo: Werner):

Race presentation at Bogong Jacks (Photo: Werner)

With Matt Cooper (He set a new course record for the men in the 100km, and won outright in 12:31hr):

Arriving at the finish, with only a handful of people - the Alpine Search and Rescue representative, my crew, and Matt Cooper`s parents, I realised that in the end finishing your own personal journey is what matters. 

I`m ever grateful to my amazing support crew: my brother, sister, and sister`s boyfriend. Thanks also to Salomon and Suunto Australia - your support of the sport is incredible. 

Starting the year with a mountain smorgasbord

Sunrise over Mt. Bogong (tallest peak in Victoria):

 

Saluting the sun on Mt. Feathertop summit:

 

Sunrise on Mt Buffalo:

 

The peaks of The Hump and The Cathedral emerging in the light:

 

 

The Horn, the tallest point on Mt Buffalo:

 

Scrambling on the granite boulders of The Cathedral:

 

An alpine paradise on the Mt Buffalo plateau:

 

  Getting some views on The Hump:

 

 

2013: I hope there are plenty more peaks to come!

The Mountainman Documentary

This is a great mini-documentary about an Alpine trail running challenge held in Switzerland that I competed in this past August. The Mountainman is a one-day-race for extreme and endurance sports people whom are strong enough to run on single trails around the BergArena of Unterwalden. The unique route starts at the Mt. Titlis and passes on its length of 80.3 kilometers and 5000 meters of ascent deep blue mountain lakes, wild rock faces and breath-taking views into the high peaks of the Berner Alpen and the beautiful valleys beneath before it ends at the peak of Mt. Pilatus. Check for more info here.

The Mountainman from frank dewaele on Vimeo.
Music: Ludovico Einaudi - Fly

Alpine majesty at the MountainMan 2012

It has been 3 weeks since I ran the Mountainman Ultra in Switzerland, and with all the travelling, returning home to Australia, and getting back to my daily rhythms, it has taken me a while to sit down and reflect on all I saw and experienced during my time spent amongst alpine cows, flowers and peaks. Simply put, the race is epic. It is 80km of amazing trail running in the mountains ringing Lake Lucerne, and with most of the trails above 1500m, you cannot escape the absolute majesty of being amongst geological giants.

I found myself in Alpnachstadt, on the shores of Lake Lucerne, awake at 3.30am with a dozen other runners with whom I had shared a dormitory. Shortly we would travel by bus, train, and gondola up to Trubsee, a mountain lake at the foot of Mt Titlus, at 1796m. This would be our race start for the 2012 Mountainman, a race that holds the motto: A true mountainwoman travels the entire way alone on foot. 

Elevation profile - 5000m of height gain.

The race course, one of the most scenic, with continual views down into valleys, and across lakes to peaks beyond:

Everything about the race would end up being a huge experience for me, from the difficulty of the climbs, the effects of running at a higher elevation, the heat of the sun (~35 degrees), my neverending thirst, and the immense satisfaction that I felt when finished. 

I started the race feeling very competitive, planning to 'give it' and really maximise on pushing hard up the hills. 'It's only 80km,' I thought, believing that a shorter than normal distance would somehow make it easier. Hah! My previous race had only been 3 weeks prior, and although I thought I would be rested and recovered, I don't think I was. This comes down to experience though, and I am so happy that each year I have new opportunities to learn about my body and mind, to test my strengths and weaknesses, and to work on those for the next race.

The race start begins immediately with a 500m climb up to Jochpass:

At the 35km mark, just before the first 'big' climb of the day, a 1000m hike up from Brunig to Schonbuel, I decided slow the pace. I had been working hard to maintain 5th place, and with the heat increasing in intensity, decided that I would enjoy this one and focus on finishing. This change in focus meant that I could worry less about taking a little more time at the aid stations to rehydrate, to be a little more social with other runners and volunteers, and to stop and take in the incredible views every now and then. I found a mixture of coke, oranges, and liquid nutrition (infinit nutrition) to be the best, as I didn't have any appetite to eat anything solid.

Running high in the alpine, looking down at Engstlensee:

Engstlensee and the Tannalp:

Tannalp at 9km:

Amazing section of trail, running along a sharp ridge with deep valleys either side:

Melchsee at 1900m:

On the way to Plannplatte, passing some beautiful alpine flowers:

View towards Balmeregghorn (2255m):

The last 5km was an ascent of 800m up to the finish at a gondola station. Although the ascent was tough right at the end of the race, I cannot imagine finishing such a beautiful trail anywhere else except for up between 2 mountain peaks. The feeling of walking up, seeing your goal becoming larger ahead of you was extremely motivating! With just over 13hrs of running/hiking, I finished in 15th place, completely exhausted and filled with that feeling all ultra runners seek: satisfaction. 

I would like to thank Florian from Mountainman, and Prisca from Salomon Switzerland for all their help in the leadup to the race! 

The final 300m ascent to the finish at Pilatus:

The finish at Pilatus:

All photos courtesy of here

Journeys: The beginning

"Your toughness is made up of equal parts: persistence and experience. You don't so much as outrun your opponents as outlast and outsmart them, and the toughest opponent of all is the one inside your head." - Joe Henderson

The beginning - The 2012 North Face 100km

Although this race might have been the final destination for many - the end of a season of hard training, focus and preparation, I have come to view this race as my beginning. 

Prelude

The lead up to arguably the biggest race on the Australian calendar was overwhelming! I had been away from Australia for almost 2 years, and was really looking forward to running with old friends in terrain that felt like home. I thought I had been training well, and had felt strong on some of the longer runs out on the race course. I was planning every detail like I had never done before - nutrition spreadsheets, logistics maps for my crew (amazing friend Nicola, and wonder-mum Greta), and a pace chart to work out exactly where I wanted to be and when. Although this race didn't play to all my strengths (the long stretches of fire trails are where I hurt and really need to focus on my cadence and rhythm), I was determined to go for it and to see where my training had brought me before the start of my racing season. 

It never crossed my mind that I would not finish. 

It was great to attend the race as part of the Salomon Australia team, and to meet international athlete Ryan Sandes. The buzz around Leura was electric, and it was hard not to get mentally waylaid by all the media hype surrounding this epic event. My heart would race every time I thought about the start line, and although I tried to embrace the adrenaline and pre-race nerves surging through my body, I think one of the lessons I have learnt is to be less focused on what everyone else is doing/Twittering/Facebooking, and to concentrate on why I am running and racing, something I have never had to deal with before! Dan Bleakman summed it up nicely on the Ultra168 race report by saying that: "Running is as simple as putting one leg in front of another and appreciating what you have around you. Goals achieved or not, it's only running."

The Race

I think I have learnt more from the 4 hours and 36km of running that I did in this race, than from many of the training runs that I had in the lead up.  

Last minute gear checks at the Fairmont Resort, about 15 minutes till the start (photo courtesy of Oli Wilson):

My start was fast, furious and I immediately focused on where the other runners were and on maintaining my placing, and completely ignored my body and my heart. The adrenaline was telling me "faster, faster," while my mind was telling me "hmmm, your heart rate is unsustainably high, maybe you should slow down, relax and settle into the race." To this the adrenaline replied "SHUT UP MIND, GO FASTER!" David Eadie once remarked to a friend that "at the start of the race, if you think you're going too fast, you're definitely going too fast. If you think you're going the right speed, you're going too fast. If you think you're going way too slow, your pace is about right." 

So, my first lesson from the race is to never ignore my heart.

At an early stage of the race, running through Leura, still smiling and catching up with Sam Robinson from Suunto who was out cheering for us (photo courtesy of Oli Wilson):

By 18km, I could feel my digestion not working optimally. It's pretty obvious that my body was sending all available blood to my muscles rather than to help with digesting, a result of burning the candle at both ends (my dad loves this phrase). The result was bloating, as all the nutrition I was taking in just sat in my tummy instead of providing energy to my muscles. Instead of powering up the notorious Golden Staircase as I normally would, I crawled up at snail pace. During this climb my HR peaked 182bpm, which I think says it all.
My second lesson from the race is to always plan for the worst. If I was already feeling bad at 18km, I should have taken time to stop, rest for a few minutes, try a different nutrition strategy.

At the top of the Golden Staircase, the photo capturing just how hard I was working at this stage (photo courtesy of Lyndon Marceau):

The next 18km were so tough. By now I had completely used all energy, and had replaced it with nothing. My pace slowed, I had stomach cramping and I felt nauseated. I really wanted to stop. The 8km to the next checkpoint were awful as I was vomiting at this stage, a result of all that nutrition just not digesting. I couldn't stop thinking about how early on in the race it was. When I got in to the next checkpoint I went straight to the first aid station. In my mind I had finished. And so I had. After another small vomit, I decided to finish there. Now, I wish I hadn't. I recently read "to get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping." (Chinese Proverb).
My third lesson here was to KEEP GOING. I know this, I know that after the worst slump, things can always turn around. Walking is a good start, and invariably jogging will soon follow. One of my Salomon team mates told me this as I was lying in the first aid station, told me to at least walk to the next aid station, but in that moment the idea of walking shamed me. I forgot why I was running and the personal challenges that undertaking the hardest of journeys brings.

So, this is the beginning. I can move forward into my next races with these three, hard-earned lessons behind me. I don't wish this kind of race experience on anyone, but if you can learn from what went wrong then it is these kinds of setbacks that build experience and allow you to persist when the going really gets rough.

Autumn Highlights

The last month has been busy. I have been adhering to a strict routine of pack-living: Organising my 75L trusted hiking pack for 2 weeks of work in Tasmania, flying/commuting, guiding, having a day off, churning through an endless mound of dirty laundry, desperately trying to dry out my boots, recharging and catching up on week-old emails and then guiding again. In between I am devouring anything fresh, green and crunchy to make up for a weeks worth of eating a carbohydrate-only diet on the trails (not so good for the immune system).

From Tasmania I flew to Melbourne and headed to the Victorian high country for a few days of running around Falls Creek. Although still living out of a pack, life slowed down, I was able to enjoy some beautiful running terrain around the Bogong High Plains, and to eat nutritious meal after meal (mostly hearty bean stews with quinoa or soba noodles). The area around Falls Creek is incredible training ground - great trails at higher elevation, mountain conditions and a good mix of both steep and flatter terrain. 

 Spion Kpoje Loop (35ish km)

This was a beautiful loop I started from the Rocky Valley Storage Dam. The trail was nice and clear, took in some beautiful alpine vegetation, had a gradual climb up onto the Spion ridge from where lovely undulating trail took me down almost all the way to Bogong village, where I took the Bogong Valley High Plains road back to Falls Creek resort. The weather was wild. Ferocious winds whipped at my clothing, mist narrowed the views right down to spooky gum skeletons and the trail in front of me. 

Recommended: at least 2L of water, all-weather gear (I had an awesome lightweight Salomon jacket), map or good sense of direction, and food. 

The storage dam at Falls Creek, the bank covered in skeleton trees:

Map of trails in the area:

Bogong High Plains:

Fighting the wind and mist:

Spooky:

River crossing before hitting the Bogong Valley High Plains road:

Blue Mountains Training weekend

The following weekend I was fortunate enough to join an amazing group of friends for a solid session of running. The weekend was organised by Rob Costello, a speedy Irish fellow with a great repertoire of crazy insights that he brings out on the trails. We took over the Fairmont resort at Leura (the race HQ for the North Face 100km), bringing new meaning to the phrase "lycra in the lobby." It was amazing to be sleeping in a real bed, no sleeping bag, tent or back of a car in sight! The first run on Saturday took in 60km of the race course. We had a crew out to support us, meeting us with water, icy cokes and food at the half way point (So incredible to have this kind of encouragement on a training run). It was great to run with different people with different strengths, and to figure out what still needs fine-tuning before race day. Like anything in life, training is so essential to build confidence, to try new strategies, to make mistakes, and to evaluate strengths and weaknesses. After the run we had an awesome soak in the icy outdoor pool and the hot tub.

Day 2 we woke up early at 4am and went for run on the last 10km of the course. It always blows me away to be awake at this time, to run in the dark in a landscape shaped by shadows, and to watch the day emerging. I always have the thought: How many people are lucky enough to experience this time of the day, and through the powerful force of running. After our run we had a huge buffet breakfast, a little bit of downtime, and then back out on the course to run another 21km through the Jameison Valley and Kedumba Pass. I was loving the long, slow grind back up from the valley to the plateau above. 

Fairmont Resort:

Mist in the valley:

The crew:

Narrowneck Road:

Day 2 - Jameison Valley (jumping for joy):