The week leading up to 6FT was typical of a week leading up to any big race and started with me convinced I was battling a cold. Probably not entirely paranoid as the taper does mean I let my guard down a little and with the guard down bugs can get in. That said it is almost certainly mainly mental. I tend to live on Lemsip and Vicks and so it was last week. Friday arrived and I felt OK. AJ had allowed me to sleep for 7.5hrs straight, the most uninterrupted sleep I've had in ages. I took her to daycare, came home to make sure Sal, who has a bad back and is off work, was sorted and headed to work. Sal's sister Mara was on AJ duty from Friday afternoon until I got back from Katoomba. What that meant was that I could leave straight from work and get the train up to the mountains.
I got to Central station early enough to get an earlier train that was already quite full and decided to wait the half hour until the next one, the 4:24 that I had planned to get and knew I would get a seat on. I had turned down a life from Tobes (also running) because I figured I would benefit from 2hrs bonus rest on the train. I didn't sleep on the way up, but it was a restful time. Katoomba was overcast with the threat of rain when I arrived. I checked into the Carrington, which still reminds me of the Overlook Hotel from Kubrick's The Shining, and then picked up my race kit, which was being handed out downstairs in the ballroom. No message from Tobes, but the traffic I'd spotted from the train looked a bit ordinary so I figured he may be running late. I head over the road to get some take out pasta to sit on top of the pasta I'd had for lunch. The threat of rain became rain with some thunder and lightening thrown in for good measure. It was pleasantly cool, which was good, but with the track about to take a soaking I knew we'd have a slow start down the slippery steps in Nellie's Glen. Nevermind.
Back in the room I threw back the pasta, put on the tele and found I had the option of falling asleep to England losing a cricket match or The Biggest Loser. Not much of a choice, and I crashed out pretty early. Before, it seems, the proper heavy rain started to fall.
I woke up a little after 5 after having an uninterrupted 8hrs sleep. Didn't feel bunged up. no lingering aches and pains. Wow. Pee was the colour of weak apple juice. Very weak. All good. I put the tele on while I faffed around, catching up on the news of the Japanese Earthquake and Tsunami. It was that or some TV preacher rambling on and making little to no sense to me. I'd missed a message from Tobes and sent one back saying I'd see him at the start. It was starting to get light and the rain had passed. The weather looked perfect. I planned to walk the couple of km to the start, along a newly constructed footpath that I failed to find. So, rather than walk along the highway, I turned around and headed for one of the bus pickups. I was fortunate enough to be spotted by random person #1 who offered me a lift to the Park n Ride. What a nice man.
I bid farewell to my new friend, went to the bag drop and as I put my bag in my numbered plastic bag found I was standing next to Tobes. We climbed aboard the bus and headed to the start. We had about an hour and half to pass so had a long chat, grabbed some damper, he had a cuppa and we both caught up with other runners we knew. The early starters headed of at 7am. At 8am wave one left and five minutes later wave 2 left. Tobes and I were off. He'd gone towards the rear of our 200 strong wave and I was close-ish to the start, reflecting our respective confidence on the steep rocky path to the top of the steps at Nellies Glen.
In training I felt that my rock-hoping ability was on the wane, but I felt good at the start and managed to get past quite a few of the more tentative runners. The steps were as slow as I feared they would be. The runners, with one fuckwit exception, formed a single file line and we made slow progress down. Nellies Glen is stunning and I must one day go back to explore it properly and take pictures. It is a lush green gorge and as we made our way down we got glimpses of the early morning sun lighting up the sheer mountain face ahead. This, I thought, is why I run on trails. At the bottom of the steps the trail remains single-track but the group of runners I was part of were making pretty decent progress and I was happy with the pace. The first section of the race is relatively easy running and very pleasant indeed. Out of the Glen and through farmers properties and generally undulating, generally downhill terrain, through trees and a few sections were you get the sun on your back. The first section (sections, incidentally, are arbitrary and not marked) finishes at the Cox's River crossing and I made it there in a little under 90minutes, which is what I had hoped for and what I had managed on my previous 6FT. I was doing OK at this point and headed straight into the water which was just over waist deep.
Once out of the river the fun stops. There is a short spell of running before the climb up to the Pluviometer. This is a 10km section that goes up, and up, and up and up. OK, there is a small section that goes down. But then it is up and up and more up. I had not intention of running any of the steeps and killing myself. I'd had a gel at the water station by the river and got into my power walking. Some people run bits then walk, run then walk. I prefer to keep my pace as regular as possible and walk consistently. My made-up-on-the-spot rule was that I would not allow anyone to walk past me. A few times people ran past and then as they had their walking breaks I walked past them. That made me feel as if I'd picked a better strategy. I can't tell you much about this section as it is head down and grind it out stuff. What I can tell you is the view from near the top is simply breathtaking. By 25km I was getting pretty knackered, but everything was still working. I knocked back the gel I'd picked up from the water stop at Cox's and had been carrying for the last 10km. I'd been stopping at every water station, having a quick chat with the Rural Fire Service guys and girls who were providing the support. They, each and every one, are diamonds. Some were in fancy dress. I think; maybe I was hallucinating. From the top of Pluvi there was coke offered as well as water and electrolyte drinks. I was having a combination of all three.
How does it go? The race starts here. There was the threat of rain in the air and it was pleasantly cool as we made our way through the Black Range. I was feeling somewhat dizzy and foggy, but my legs were still turning over. Although I'd shared a few words with other runners as I'd gone along this was pretty much solo running. The next few km are undulating and there were a few sections where I could get back into a decent running tempo. There is a lovely bit of descent which is just what the doctor ordered and other sections were it was back to run a bit walk a bit. I sensed that my pace was slowing and beating my previous time was becoming unlikely. I stopped at one point to remove a stone form my shoe and as I lifted my right leg to about 90 degrees to put my foot on a rock my left abductor gave a yelp. I was fairly fatigued, but once I started moving again everything seemed to be OK.
By about 33km I knew I'd not be getting a PB. With Sal's back as bad as it is I decided I'd not kill myself. There were a couple of savage hills to come and I needed to make sure I'd be able to look after both Sal and AJ in the morning. Of course if I'd had a chance to get a PB the red mist of selfishness would have descended and I'd be crippled today. Was the rain shower at this stage? I don't remember, but there was a little rain.
...right, AJ has just woken up and needs a change, so there will be an intermission...
Where was I? Up near the deviation, at around 35km, and I remember from my other 6FT thinking "it's only a 10km from here and I can do a 10km!" Of course that time I didn't know about the bastard hill at 36km. This time I knew it was coming and it was every bit as steep and horrible as I remember from before. It is put there to knock the remaining stuffing from your legs, something it does with startling efficiency. It was all very "make-it-stop-please" from here. Over The Cave's Road crossing you get a bit of a downhill section which brings a little relief. I went through the marathon distance over an hour slowest than my slowest road marathon but was happy (happy? make that relieved) to see the metres ticking over.
The final couple of km are a cruel and punishing downhill that will take out of you anything you have left. I sort of ran-hopped-hobbled my way to the finish, managing to sneak just under 5hrs. Official time was 4:58:09, which is 20mins slower than my other effort, three years ago.
I was completely spent at the end. I was dizzy, felt a little queasy and had about enough energy left to stand and feel like shit. Once again I found myself standing next to Tobes who in his first 6FT had finished a minute behind me and was feeling as knackered and emotional as me. It is a strange thing and something that a lot of people say; they are surprised by just how emotional they get. Probabaly to do with the exhaustion and dehydration, but I guess if you want to look at it in a spiritual way then knock yourself out.
Jenolan caves has no mobile reception for Optus, Vodafone and Macquarie Telecom and the payphone wasn't working. Great; no way to see how Sal had gone with her own and entirely different challenge. As luck would have it we caught up with another friend of Tobes while we were having a beer and his Telstra mobile had reception. I left a message. I'd gotten changed very slowly in the toilet block - moving at roughly the max speed I could manage - slow. I meandered towards the coaches that would take us back to Katomba to find the earliest was leaving at 3.30. I chatted about something or other to a couple of guys but cannot remember anything of the conversation beyond their opening question - was I the guy who had won lat years's North Face 100? I assured them I was not. Our chat ended when the world started to spin again and I thought I may chuck. I didn't spew and instead plonked my arse down outside the caves' ticket office.
I spotted Andrew as he walked past and asked how he had gone. I thought he said 4th but he actually came 1st in 3.35. Slower than his best, but everyone else got a view of the back of his head, so I guess he was pleased. I'd met Andrew on the coach back from Jenolan on my previous 6FT when I somehow managed to find myself sitting near a group of he elites. Nice bunch of guys. Andrew works in Sydney and I have bumped into and run with him a couple of times at lunch. Still don't know his surname, but it is the one with the #1 next to it this year. Hold on...
Andrew Lee. Actually I did know that.
Tobes and I got the 3.30 coach and he then gave me a lift back to Sydney, which was greatly appreciated. We stocked up on fat and sugar at a petrol station and were feeling reasonably human. And, because I take note of these things, I took a pee at around 9.30pm, approx 11.5 hours after my last one. Got to do something about that but I don't know what. I certainly thought I'd done well with the drinks stops - I stopped at every one - and keeping fluids going in after the race. Ho-hum
For the record, as it stands I am unsure whether I'll be back for another. But hey, yesterday I was definite, so who knows. In case you're interested, here is the route. No idea why DailyMile yesterday said it is 44.1km - the course is 45 - and even less of an idea why it now says 44.48km when all I have done is go back and correct a typo in the route name. Weird. Anyway, it's 45km. And not flat. And it is over for the year.
1 comment:
Awesome post -- well done on the race, sounds pretty extreme!
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