2011 Cairns to Port Douglas

It has now been over five weeks since I did this race so I will be relying on my memory for most of the details. I will try to stick to the truth and restrain my natural flair for poetic licence.

I stood at the start line brimming with nervous anticipation in what would be my fifth and final ultramarathon of 2011. My training for this specific race had been good with five continuous 100km+ weeks since the Glasshouse 100 race and my taper had gone well with some quicker times on my shorter sharper sessions. I had also managed to get a PB on my regular 5km Mt Archer hill climb so I felt that I would be primed for a significant result. If I am being honest, I was hoping for a podium place. I had reviewed the 40+ entrants listed on the website and noted that current World Ultraman Champion and new course record holder at the Glasshouse 100mile race, Mike Le Roux, was racing so I knew that first was out of the question, still I was hopeful of top three. I was acutely aware of the impact that racing others has compared with racing myself and felt a little uncomfortable about worrying about what others were doing. I guess that my natural competitive nature was beginning to surface, just like it did when I was preparing to qualify for the Hawaiian Ironman. In the last year my philosophy has changed somewhat and I have been more focused on adventure and accomplishment instead of racing to beat other people, so a return to this competitive mindset felt a little alien.

The start was reasonably relaxed except for Mike Le Roux who began sprinting at 400m pace and was out of sight very quickly. I began jogging and was surprised to find myself in 2nd place. I didn't want to go out too fast so I focused on relaxing and getting into a rhythm. A local whom I had just met, Keith Fearon, came past me and I settled in behind him with two others following a few metres behind. The course begins climbing almost immediately and after a short amount of road and undulating trail we began the climb proper. Unfortunately our group of four runners took a wrong turn off the course on what turned out to be a mountain bike circuit, deviating by a couple of hundred metres. As the four of us stood around a clearing I had decided to retrace my steps and try to rejoin the course. I was annoyed at myself for getting lost but it was not the first time I had done so in a trail race and I had only gone an extra 500m to 1km which was not too bad. I was wary of running too hard to make up time and tried to settle into my climbing rhythm. One of the other guys who got lost passed me running quite hard and I decided to let him go instead of trying to staying with him.

The first climb is quite brutal and it took some time before I caught up to other runners meaning that I was in about 40th place after the little detour. I continued to pass other runners as the climb progressed albeit at a slower baby-steps type of pace. I had felt that my climbing had improved recently so I was surprised at how early I started walking. I tried to follow my run/walk strategy but was getting increasingly tired and fatigued as the very steep and difficult climb progressed. The last two kilometres of the climb were particularly brutal and my pace blew out to around 12min 40secs per kilometre. I felt like I was hiking up an alpine mountain in some places as my legs and lower back were tightening under the pressure of the climb and I even needed to use my hands to grip some of the tree roots to haul myself up the slope. Thankfully the dense bush began to thin out and I found myself at the top of the climb, skirting a chain-link fence to get to the first water stop at the weather station. I refilled my hand-held bottle and thanked the St Johns ambulance staff who told me that I was in about 18th place.

As the laws of physics dictate, what goes up must come down, so I used the decent to try and stretch out my legs. At the bottom of the decent we passed through the first checkpoint and I could see a long line of runners ahead. I ran through the checkpoint without stopping and began running on the undulating road section of the course. I continued to pick up places so that by the time I caught up to a group of runners on Black Mountain Road I was in about 7th position. This section of the course is run on a gentle undulating gravel road which is quite enjoyable to run on.

At the time my legs felt more heavy and tired than I expected them to be but I attributed this to be a consequence of the big climb up Saddle Mountain. I was telling myself at the time that I was relaxed and running a comfortable place but in hindsight and upon reflection I was running too fast. I look back now and blame my desire for a podium place as the cataylst for pushing too hard too early. I was sticking with my practiced nutrition strategy but I was working too hard. I had run myself back up to fourth position on the road and was playing cat and mouse with the top woman who was running really strong.

At about the 28km mark I dropped back from the first placed woman as she continued to surge ahead and I was beginning to feel the effects of my fast early pace. I continued to run on strongly but by the 33rd kilometre I knew that something was wrong. I was starting to feel very fatigued, more than I expected for this stage of the race and with 41km to go I began taking some walking breaks to try and recover and slow my breathing down. I had been passed by a group of three runners and as I walked the inclines more runners came past me. By this stage I didn't really care about places or podiums and from previous experiences I knew that the day would be more about survival than racing for time or place.

My pace had slowed drastically from running low to mid 5min/km's out to 8-9min/km's. I was pretty much by myself from the 36km checkpoint as I made my way along Black Mountain Road. I couldn't drink or eat anymore as a result of perpetual feeling of nausea but I pushed on regardless. This part of the course felt quite strange to me, I don't know if it was as a result of my state of dehydration but I felt quite vulnerable here. I felt that my safety was not assured. I was aware of a local plant commonly known as wait-a-while which has barbed tentacle like vines which hang from above and grab hold and imbed themselves in clothing and any exposed skin. In fact at one point I ran right into one which ripped the leg of my shorts, left a barb in one of my fingers and made my right ear-lobe begin to bleed. This coupled with the risk of spiders and snakes out on the course meant that I was constantly on edge. It felt quite eerie running along the trail with unusual vegetation and a myriad of dead leaves, plants and wood covering the ground providing lots of tripping obstacles and excellent hiding places for reptiles and arachnids.

The isolation also added to my growing apprehension and a fear that I had gone off course again. So each time I came across a marker or water container I felt a surge of relief. It was at this point on the course that I caught an injured French woman who was hobbling along but fiercely determined to finish. She could not run the downhills but was surprisingly agile along the flat and on the uphills, compared with me where the downhills and some of the flat sections were the only times that I could run. This meant that we played leap-frog for about 10km.

I finally made it to the 57km checkpoint and was really struggling. As I got closer to this point I was debating on whether I should continue on or drop from the race. I had no energy and was seriously questioning my ability to continue. For the last 20km I was rationalising internally why I do these long endurance runs. I had pretty much made up my mind that this would be my last ultra and needed to push through the pain and discomfort to finish this damn run. Waiting at the checkpoint was the guy who had gotten lost with me at the start and ran strongly past me on the hill to make up time. He looked in pretty bad shape and I could tell that his race had ended. Prior to taking up ultramarathons this season I had never had a DNF, even in my seven Iroman races and numerous other triathlons and running races, however I had failed to finish The North Face 100 in May only making it to 83km before quitting and then dropping at the 127.5km mark in the Glasshouse 100 mile race in September. I couldn't have a third DNF so I downed a couple of cups of Endura and ambled my way down the Bump Track. Only 17km more kilometres to go, how hard could it be?

I only made it another kilometre or so before I had to stop, move to the side of the track and proceed to empty my stomach of all its contents. I have been in this position before and knew that immediately after purging there is a small window where I feel better, so I began running again. After a few undulations there is a very steep four kilometre decent. I tried to take advantage of gravity and jogged on. I passed the French woman and started to feel a little more confident in my ability to finish this agonising run. Whereas the earlier part of the day was surprisingly temperate with good cloud cover and moderate humidity and temperature, it was now becoming extremely hot and I was really starting to heat up.

About a kilometre from the bottom of the decent I began to suffer acute stitch and stomach cramps which were impacting on my ability to breathe without pain. I began walking with my hands on my head and exaggerating my breathing to relax my diaphragm. I managed to make it to the bottom in one piece but I was starting to suffer from the effects of heat sickness due to my dehydrated condition. I sought solace under a shaded tree next to a van where some supporters were waiting for their runner to come by. I sat down for about five to ten minutes and tried to cool myself down and get my breathing under control. I gave up 10th and 11th place but I really didn't care anymore.

From this point I had about 12km or so to go which ordinarily is the distance of my recovery runs. Unfortunately this last leg was fully exposed to the elements and the suns' scorching rays felt like they could penetrate all the layers of my skin and liquefy my muscles and incinerate my bones. Well maybe it was not that dramatic but I was feeling very sorry for myself and acutely aware that I would have to walk the remainder of the race without additional food or water due to my persistent nausea.

More runners passed me as I made my way through the Port Douglas streets and onto the beach for the final 4km which is run almost exclusively on sand. Ordinarily this would be a picturesque run but I just wanted it to be over. I could see the end of the beach in the distance and like a mirage, every step I took seemed to take me no closer to my oasis. I kept an eye on my watch and was walking at about a 10:30min/km pace. After what seemed like an eternity I was almost at the end of the beach, I could hear the sunbathers and beach-goers applauding the runners who had recently overtaken me and I knew that I would have to try and salvage a little self-respect and jog my way to the finish. I exited the beach and hobbled along the esplanade towards the finish. I acknowledged the crowd on the beach, the people clapping from their balconies and the patrons in the cafes sipping cold beverages and licking delicious looking ice-creams. I crossed the finish line in 17th place overall in a time of 9hrs 37mins 32secs, totally spent. My friend Will had met me on the beach and together with his neighbour, Scotty, welcomed me at the finish line.

After the race it took me a while to get myself under control. I was overheated, very dehydrated and just lay on the grass for about 10 minutes trying to recover my composure. Will and Scotty looked after me and offered to get me food and drink but I knew that it would be some time before my stomach would settle enough to consume anything. The pain relented enough so that I could walk to the beach shower where I saturated myself (clothes and all) in glorious cold water. With my core temperature a little lower I felt a little better and I could sit up and talk with some of the other competitors. Keith Fearon ran well and ended up in 7th place overall. Mike Le Roux won the race by half an hour in 6hrs 45mins.

After the race I called Mel and gave her a quick update on my disastrous day. I updated my Facebook status and headed back to Will's place for a swim in his pool and to try absorbing calories. Once I had had a swim, something to eat and drink and felt a bit more normal I rang Mel again. Melanie is so supportive but I know that she worries about me hurting myself or doing some permanent damage from my participation in this extreme sport. Mel knew of my lofty goals and ambitions for 2012 and was relieved when I told her that I was done. The pain was still so fresh, so it was not difficult to lament to her how disappointed I was in always getting sick and that I felt like I was always hitting my head against a brick wall, that the sensible thing to do would be to stop and try something else.

When I got back home to Rockhampton I was careful to avoid saying that I was retired from ultras, even though in my mind I knew that I was through. I told my friends and training partners that I was done with long ultras and would at the most run the short 50km races if I ever did another one. I contemplated my future pursuits (as I am not one for sitting idly-by) and turned my mind to the possibility of doing some mountain biking or playing soccer. Mel took my semi-retirement with a grain of salt and even said to me she didn't think that I could stop. I was adamant however and after two weeks off running altogether I continued to tell anyone who would listen that I would stick to 'sprint distances' such as the marathon.

UPDATE:
Since completing the Cairns to Port Douglas Trail Ultra I had two weeks off running altogether. My first week back running was difficult and without an immediate goal I ran three times for a total of 33km. The next week involved only two runs for a total of 26km. I am currently in New Zealand having a family holiday over the Christmas period. As stated in my previous post I have had a change of heart AGAIN and have entered the 2012 edition of The North Face 100 to finish what I started. I will endeavour to relate my recent thoughts and experiences in my next post: "2011 - A year in review" which will be published upon my return to Australia. I would again like to thank my wife Mel, children Holly and Ethan, family, friends and training partners for all their support, without it I would never be able to achieve what I have or have the strength or courage to step outside of my comfort zone to challenge myself and push the boundaries of what is possible. I would also like to especially thank Will and Lynn for putting me up on short notice and looking after me in Port Douglas, I really enjoyed spending the weekend with you both.

I hope you all have a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and...................

Keep running.

Stop Press

Firstly I would like to acknowledge that it has been a long time since I posted on my blog. I did not intend to wait so long but I needed to sort out some issues in my head before writing a race report from the Cairns to Port Douglas 74km Ultra I did four weeks ago. That report is still to come and I hope to post it here in the next week.

In short, I was again going to retire from doing long ultras (100km, 100mile, longer etc) after another sickness plagued race. I felt that it was the right decision even though I also felt like I was letting my friends down who were planning on travelling down with me and sharing in the adventure that is The North Face 100 in the Blue Mountains (Sorry Sean). Prior to the Port Douglas Ultra, I had planned out 2012 in my head as being a huge year for ultramarathon running but after that race I discarded those plans almost immediately. So when entries to the 2012 TNF100 opened I watched as everyone else posted their race numbers on Facebook or Coolrunning. Even though everyone else expressed their nervous excitement about the impending race I was steadfast in my resolve to stick to the shorter sprint type races such as marathons.

I had fielded a few inquiries from my training partners about whether I was still going to avoid the Blue Mountains, including an email link from Raelene that stated that there were only 25 more spots available before the race was full. So I surprised myself when I entered. For some unexplained reason I began analysing my recent race experiences and accomplishments, my last year of training and racing and my potential futures one which included my previous plan for ultra saturation. My first Ultramarathon was in September 2010 and I have experienced so much in that short time, I have had some great achievements and some spectacular failures and it is those failures as well as the potential to experience more adventures along this ultra journey that drives me to continue. I guess what I needed was some time to forget about structured running for a while, to recharge and refocus. I still need to sort out my nutritional problems but I will not give up, I am returning to TNF100 to finish what I started this year.

After the Port Douglas race I took two weeks off running, my first week back I ran three times with a total of almost 33km and this week I ran twice for a total of 26km. I am currently in New Zealand for the next three weeks and while I am here I plan on running some of my favourite trail and road runs in the area. The Wellington region is great for running with some good hills and trails which will give me a great base as I begin my preparation for an exciting 2012 of running long.

I will endeavour to publish posts more regularly on this blog as I continue to challenge myself along the exciting and challenging ultra path. I hope to encourage and motivate others to step outside their comfort zones, strive to achieve their goals and to have fun.

Keep running.