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.

Relax, breathe, and enjoy The North Face 100km

"When I get on the line, I realize that the issue is 90 percent settled. My recent training, whether I am over or under or at my peak, the state of my health cannot be helped. These factors are out of my hands. They are behind me. I need no longer worry about them. I have to remember only two things; one, not to do anything stupid and two, not to quit." - Dr George Sheehan in This Running Life.

5 days before the 2012 The North Face 100km Race and the usual pre-race antics are going on inside my head. Amidst the nerves and excitement it's easy to forget how much fun running is (mostly because I am not running due to tapering), and what a pleasure it is to share the experience with so many amazing characters. I try to remember the training I have done, the long runs completed with friends as well as alone. I try not to doubt my mind and body, and to remember all the ups and downs we have conquered in previous races.  Most importantly, I try to stay focused on my goal: to run my own race, to run strong, and to be the best that I can be on the day. I think the quote above from Dr George Sheehan is pretty spot on too, and that is what I will be focusing on when I stand on the starting line! 

In past years I have mostly raced with friends but without support. This year I feel like I am so supported: by friends who will be racing alongside, in front, and behind me; my Salomon team-mates (Mick Donges, Andrew Vize and Matt Cooper as well as Naima and Sam); and by my amazing crew (my mother and my friend Nicola visiting from Canada).

The race itself is going to be epic. The terrain is fantastic - rugged, runable in some areas, technical and challenging in others. There is rolling, playful, single track trail, scrambling required over rocks, undulations, big climbs, cascades and waterfalls, rainforest, slender eucalypt trees, sandstone, and...views!!! Oh how us trail runners love those awe-inspiring views that stop us in our tracks and make us go "Yes. This is why I woke up at 5am to go running!" The last couple of weeks I have had a blast training in the Blue Mountains on the course, as well as playing host to Nicola and showing her some of the local trails:

Campfire at Old Ford Reserve during a true "training camp" in the Blue Mountains:

Morning light across the Three Sisters and Mt Solitary during a early morning run:

Nicola hugging a huge Red Gum on my last long run (while pre-sweeping for the Wild Endurance event):

Taros Ladder. I never knew rope-tying could be so sexy:

Some sexy rock alongside Narrowneck:

Endorphins make you do funny things:

So, here we go. Relax, breathe, enjoy the run and see you on the other side of the finish line! If you are like me and love to get a little crazy before a race, this song might be for you:

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):

Running the north side - a Blue Mountains adventure

The Blue Mountains has long been a haven for crazy climbers, wild canyoneers, and trail runners with mountain goat willpower. The distinctive plateaus that drop off into alluring canyons and gorges make for a playground tempting to any adventure seeker. I had run the trails to the south of Leura and Katoomba many times in preparation for The North Face 100km trail race, but knew little of what lay in the wilderness of the north side. Luckily, what are friends for, if not to take you on grand adventures that involve stunning views, good weather, and in my case, running rugged single track trails through the northern Blue Mountains? Thanks to my guide, local mountains resident Mick (and gun trail runner), I had an amazing 2 days of running and adventuring!

Day 1: 
Trail: Lockley Pylon Track and down into the Grose Valley to Blue Gum Forest
(Wild walks has awesome information on trail access here)
We ran this 8km trail as an out-and-back, starting from Mt Hay Rd and turning around in the Blue Gum Forest. It was challenging and offered great training on rolling terrain the transitioned into some steeper, steady climbs up out to Du Faur head and again out of the Grose Valley. Carrying sufficient water is a must, as the trail is open and exposed most of the way down into the valley.

Beautiful rolling terrain running across open plains with views across to the northern cliffs:

In the Grose Valley, Mick attempting to cross a small stream on a fallen Blue Gum:

Running through Blue Gum Forest:

Looking up to Du Faur Head (776m) where we will eventually climb to:

Day 2:
Trail: The Grand Canyon via the Cliff Top trail.
This is just an awesome circuit that left me feeling so inspired to keep running and exploring! The views are grand as you run on the Cliff Top Trail that follows the contours of the plateau, before you drop down and enter the Grand Canyon. Repairs have been done to the stairs winding down into lush rainforest, making for a fast, heart-stopping descent into a green paradise. Running through the canyon takes you up onto a winding trail that runs along the side of the cliffs, sometimes taking you through small waterfalls. The trail out of the canyon again challenges the legs and heart and makes for some solid training.

The views from the Cliff Top trail into the Grose Valley:

Running in the Grand Canyon:

Crossing a stream running through the canyon:

Looking up from the canyon at a crack of sky:

The trail running along the side of the canyon:

The North Face 100km

I randomly picked up a little postcard for the Wild Endurance 100km team race and was instantly drawn to doing something that would present me with an extreme physical and mental challenge. After an unsuccessful bid to sign up friends, family and lastly any willing body, I resigned myself that I would not be able to enter. I then read about the North Face 100, in which I could compete as a solo entrant.

The idea of testing myself, of seeing what I could achieve in a relatively short period of training (10 weeks) and of seeing some stunning “nature porn” (a term I learnt from a fellow runner called Andrew Fist) had me signing up to the 2009 TNF100km hosted by AROC. I had been training with a small bunch of other runners:

James Owens

James randomly joined us on a training run, and I soon saw that he was a very level, steady runner. We share a similar passion for trail mix , technical gear, and adventure, and many talks were had about potential adventure tourism business ventures we could start to escape the rat race. James introduced me to INOV8 gear, to Nuun electrolytes, and demonstrated the wonders a Snickers bar can work when the chips are down. James and I ended up running the race together.

Tony Golden and Andrew Jordan

While training, Tony was our “expedition leader” and always had our training runs mapped out on his GARMIN watch. This definitely came in handy on some of the more remote trails deep in the BM National Park. More than once a wrong turn was made which Tony’s programmed watch would correct. We soon learnt NEVER to doubt the GARMIN, no matter how good our instincts were. Tony now knows the Mountains like the back of his hand! Tony ran the race with Andrew Jordan as a 50km Team Relay

John O’Regan.

John came over from Ireland to do the race, so I only met John the night before the race. It was lovely to meet John as his running career and support has been great inspiration to me. John's gentle demeanour hides a steel core that saw him complete the whole race with a terrible ITB flair up (something I would also come to experience first-hand!). This strength will stand him in good stead, as he has been selected to be on the Irish team to compete at the 24-hour World Championships in May 2010.

Race Day

The morning started with the ritual breakfast rites. For me this includes toast with peanut butter and honey. Camelbacks were filled; last minute gear checks were made. I had on my beloved label – Salomon – and felt nothing could go wrong!

Soon it was time for us to pile into the car to head to the Fairmont Resort in Leura, where the race started and would finish later today.

As we arrived the sun rose, giving us all an immense amount of energy, and raising the cool mountain air a couple of degrees. Nevertheless, the pre-race briefing had us all shivering, and wishing to get the legs moving.

We were also very interested to catch a glimpse of Dean Karnazes, also known as “possibly the fittest man alive” or “that man that once ran 50 marathons in 50 days.” We wanted to see some of these claims tested, and were sure that our mountains and Australian terrain would provide Mr Karnazes with a challenge.

The gun sounded and bodies started moving over the mist covered golf course through which the first 2km of the race ran.

Our first checkpoint at Narrowneck Road was 17km away. We had energy to burn, and it was difficult to keep the pace steady with so much testosterone around me! I was so excited to be running effortlessly through the beautiful stretch of rainforest that marks the first 10km of the Federal Pass. In fact, I was so excited that I tripped over a tree root...twice...and injured my knee. At the time, I didn’t notice the injury, but the pain would come later!

I was running with my friend James, and we kept a nice steady pace going on the Federal Pass trail, past the Scenic railway, the Landslide (a trail winding through large rocks that have fallen down from the towering cliff face above) and up the Golden staircase to the first checkpoint at the start of Narrowneck road. We were met with a banquet of muesli bars, fruit and electrolyte drinks, and very enthusiastic supporters who really buoyed our spirits. James and I only made a quick toilet stop before heading off for the next section.

The day was starting to heat up, but as Narrowneck runs along the ridge of a plateau, it is quite exposed to the chilly wind that can come up from the valley below. While running we would play leap-frog with other runners, passing them only to be passed later by them. This made for great camaraderie and the runners all gave each other an immense amount of support. At the end of Narrowneck Road we hit a queue of runners waiting to descend the one-man-at-a-time Tarros Ladders. This usually consists of iron pegs bolted into the cliff face which you have to hold onto as you lower yourself down 20m. For the race, the organisers had erected a ladder which could be climbed down a little more safely. While waiting, the wind swept past us, and runners could be seen huddling with hands under the armpits, or squatting into a small ball to keep warm. Finally it was our turn to descend and start our run through the Megalong Valley to the second checkpoint at Dumphy’s Campground. The reserve is a beautiful patch of green that appears as you emerge out of bush, and is a popular site for campers and hikers to picnic. Again, we made only a brief stop, aware that we had some tough climbing ahead of us.

The next section of the run was completely unknown to us. It ran through Private Property and thus we had been unable to access it for training prior to race day. IronPot Ridge was meant to offer some of the most spectacular scenery across the Blue Mountains, but all I can remember is the steep scramble up the side of a mountain to reach the ridge. Climbing hand to foot and sometimes sliding as our hold on loose dirt faltered, our spirits were weakened as we reached the ridge. We then had an out and back loop to complete, our eyes only focusing on the ground ahead which was scattered with grey rocks that could easily trip. The descent back down into Megalong Valley was more of a slide down dirt and dust and completely uncontrolled and put an immense amount of strain on the knees. From this point my injured knee started to give me some pain, and running required more effort. Finally we were back in the valley, out of hell, and on Megalong Valley road on our way to the third checkpoint. Our legs were sore and the climb out of the valley was deceptively steep, but we pushed on. We passed one Swiss runner whose face was smeared with dust. He was patriotically wearing his Marathon de Sable buff and grunted to us that this race was too difficult and that the organisers must be sick. We took pride that this seasoned runner was struggling the same as us. Finally the climb levelled off and the road once again descended down to Old Ford Reserve, the first checkpoint where we could have support crew waiting. Cheers erupted as we arrived.

Our crew consisted of my father, Louis, my brother Werner, Andrew Jordan’s Auntie Val (waiting with her famous Tea Cake) and Tony Golden, who was waiting to start the second half of the team relay. We had a quick gear check, James pulled out his baby wipes “for freshening up,” I tried to eat some instant noodles and soon our quick break came to an end and we faced the reality that we had a short but horrifying section ahead of us.

Only 13km away, the next checkpoint sat at the top of the cliffs, and the only way up was via Nellie’s Glen and the gruelling staircase that took you from scrub and into a mossy Planet-of-the-Apes rainforest. These stairs are also synonymous with the start of the 6-Foot-Track Marathon, but here they are run DOWN, not UP. As James and I approached the staircase our spirits where broken by runners passing us with fresh legs, smiles and a sprinting pace. We soon realised they were the second runners in the team relay and were only just starting. Then, as we started climbing the stairs, we would encounter broken men sitting down, face in their hands and not quite sure how they would manage to keep climbing. By now, the sun was setting and as we reached the top (and the 6FT sign warning of a “steep descent”) we were running in twilight. I was really feeling my knee, and didn’t talk much, all my energy focusing on placing one foot after another and reaching the next checkpoint. James was a huge amount of support and running behind him allowed me to switch off and just follow his pace. As we neared the first signs of Katoomba Falls Oval, we passed one young man – I call him “marathon man” - he was walking and told us that he had run numerous marathons and had thought he was super fit, but that he couldn’t continue.

At Katoomba Falls Oval, the 67km mark, we had a stop for about 30min. This partly because we had made up so much time on the last leg without realising it, and also because when we got to the checkpoint the support crew hadn’t got there yet! A change of socks and shirt, a stretch as some of the muscles were cramping, and some of my mother’s chicken noodle soup, and we headed off.

By now it was dark, and we were running by the light of our headtorches. We ran along the top of the plateau to the 3 Sisters, then descended down the Giant Staircase back into the valley. My knee was feeling much better, and we were running really well after our last stop. We had energy, smiles, and were passing many runners who looked broken and dejected. As we ran away from the 3 monolithic rock pinnacles, backlit by an orange glow from Katoomba, James and I realised we were in uncharted territory – anything could happen – we had reached the furthest we had ever run. We were running on fire trail, and had 2 river crossings. Here we had Tony Golden to thank: He had provided us with large garbage bags to put over each foot and to then simply wade through the ankle deep water, reaching the other side with feet still dry. At the 80km mark, this was a pleasure! The climb out of the valley – a long, steep continuous climb that doesn’t seem to end - was eerie: Every now and then your heachtorch would flash off a lone runner up ahead, and as you passed them, their light would soon fade and you would be surrounded by pitch black again. The bush is also very still, a legacy of a fox infestation that killed all wildlife and left the National Park barren.

The last checkpoint was at the old Queen Victoria Hospital at the 89km mark, and even though we were arriving at 9pm, we were met with a wild cheer and huge support from locals and organisers from AROC sport.

We stopped only briefly to refill camelbacks, but the support and encouragement from our crew really gave us the energy for the last 10km. By now, my knee was excruciatingly sore, and anyone who has had an ITB inflammation will attest to the debilitating ache that can stop you in your tracks. I told James that I was physically unable to keep running and that I would walk the last 10km, and that he should keep running on. He decided to stick with me and for this I am grateful, because the last section consisted of continuous ascents and descents through windy, narrow trails that led from Wentworth Falls, past Conservation hut (at which point no Conversation was had!) across Lillian’s Bridge and then up AT LAST to the golf course at the Fairmont Resort. As the lights of the finish came in view James and I picked up the pace to a slow jog, but after 3 steps decided it was too far to jog and that we should keep walking until we were closer. With 30m to go we decided we could manage a jog, and ran up the fairy-lit runway leading us to the finish line, emotions overwhelming.

We finished the 100km in 16hours and 3 minutes, and I came in 8^th female overall (See article published by Planet Ultramarathon.)

AROC sport had really outdone themselves. Waiting at the finish was a full sausage sizzle, a hot room with blankets, fruit, drinks and a really festive atmosphere. We stretched, changed clothes and swapped stories with the other runners. My favourite story is of Dean Karnazes: before running TNF100 he had run a 300km race, and had flown in the day before. Apparently he was still feeling the effects of jetlag, so much so that he had a “micro-sleep” out on the trails – anything is possible! The race had been an amazing experience and somehow the kilometres had blurred into nothing and we had emerged out the other end happy and already looking towards the next race!