Australia Day, some bad language and the threat of violence

I will try and keep my views on Australia Day to myself - I am, after all, English (despite the second passport.) It is only fair to warn you that I will be dropping the C bomb in his post. It will not, however, be gratuitous. No, in this post I will attempt to accurately record the history of this day, what happened and what it represents. Which is somewhat at odds with the mainstream Australia Day (strike 1! I will try to stop there.)

Today is a public holiday and therefore I had the opportunity to do a single run. And, free from the commute I could hit the local trails. I'd written earlier in a post or a comment that I would run the Manly Dam mountain bike circuit, inspired to do so by recalling that Gary is a mountain bike instructor. I was helped by the weather - it was humid as hell and had been belting down with rain. That plus the fact it was Australia Day should mean the track would be biker-lite. As it turned out it was bike-free. That trail is about 9km, so the plan was to link this with a run along the beach at Manly and then do the Manly to Spit scenic walkway. It was all very Manly (snigger; it's still funny after 12years.)

I left at about 1pm and it was 97% humidity. It is about 1km to the nearest point of the bike circuit, straight up. It was, of course, somewhat wet underfoot. I decided to hop about and avoid as many puddles as possible until the creek crossing; after the rain there was no way I was getting through the water with dry feet. Mind you, the humidity alone meant there was precious little dryness anyway.

I was travelling light, just a $10 note, a tub of vaseline and a bottle of home brew Gatorade. I stopped at the only bubbler on the bike course, in the park where I walk Rowlf each morning. Then it was on to the single track, passing the "no pedestrians" sign as I went. As I said, today I didn't think there would be any bikers that I'd be pissing off. I'll not run the course in good biking conditions. Manly Dam is the most popular of Sydney's relatively few official mountain bike circuits. The heavy traffic it gets and very recent heavy rain had chopped it up quite a bit. So there were plenty of puddles and boulders, but also boards and sections of slippery sandstone. It keeps you thinking.

As I came down the steep section to the creek I passed a couple of lads walking out from a side track. One said something like "hey, jogger!" but I was concentrating on picking out a crossing and paid them no attention. I went around the final bend before the water when a small rock hit the ground near me. Not one I'd displaced but one that had been thrown. "Oi!" I shouted "did you throw something?" The likely lads were about 70m back up the hill from me; as I took a couple of steps back to catch a look at them they look off up a side path. This suggested the answer to my question was yes and I should do some further investigation.

I did the sensible, mature thing and shouted "come here you little CUNT!" and took off after them. They bolted and I surprised myself at how quickly I managed to move considering the conditions and how many miles I've put my legs through this month. I was also surprised at how echoey and menacing my shout had sounded, leaving them in no doubt that a) I meant business and b) I am definitely a Laan-da-na' (Londoner if you must.)

The scrotes were in luck. The adrenaline dropped of quickly and I reminded myself I was 5km into 25km run. A sprint followed by beating the piss out of a...well, I called him a cunt so I may as well stick with that for consistency...a cunt was not an efficient use of my energy. Should the same thing happen in any other month I may make a different decision, who knows? Satisfied that I had at least scared the shit out of them I returned to the main trail, got my feet soaked in the creek and made my way up the hill on the other side.

The rest of the circuit was uneventful fun. I like the boulder-strewn descents around the dam. They are just right for me and I manage to get some pace up by not so much running as falling with a modicum of control. It tends not to happen on many runs. The mountain bike section came and went relatively easily; I was sweating like a racehorse but feeling fine. The next part was a dull road slog down to the beach.

Despite the sun coming out there were not the usual large crowds at the beach. I assumed most people were honouring the day in the traditional manner - gambling and getting pissed off their tits. There was a noticeably greater police presence than you'd expect at a weekend but all seemed good natured enough. I made my way through the flag-heavy corso and picked up the Manly to Spit Scenic Walk.

Most of this trail is not very traily. It is a popular 9km walk and much of it has been sanitised with sandstone steps. Great for walkers but not as much fun for runners. But it is not a road, the views are great and there is still some rough stuff to keep you hopping about. It is a great run to have just down the road - it starts a little of 1km from my home.

Not much to say about it other than I got it done. I knew I'd be sweating buckets so I didn't take a pack and didn't carry my camera(phone), so no pictures of the day until I got home. I managed to not restart my GPS after stopping at a bubbler for a natter so there is a dead-straight and not counted section in the GPS track. It looks over 500m but I claimed it as 500m to give myself a total of 24.5km today and an overall now past 600km.

Still tracking pretty well, even if I do say so myself.

My main problem with Australia Day is that....no, I said I'd be good.