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Long way to the top
Posted by
Witblits
,
26 May 2012
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Comrades Marathon Journey
The journey began at the beginning of September 2011 when I decided to commit and sign up for comrades marathon 2012. I had been running for about a year and a half and had the grand total of one 50k, 2 marathons, 1 half and a hand full of 10ks to my name. “pffft”I thought, “I’ve already done a 50km, surely I can do another 39 on top of that!”
I was soon to do my third marathon in the blistering heat of Sydney but luckily I already had my comrades “B” qualifier from the Gold coast, as this turned out to be the toughest run I had done. While I started off in blistering fashion I missed a crucial water stop early on, followed by a half cup of water at the next table. The wheels started to fall off at about the 20km mark, fell off completely at about 25 and an explosion could be seen at 28km. A quick toilet stop, a couple of waters and the realisation that I had to get back to the opera house under my own volition got me back into the game and I started to run (albeit very slowly). The strategy was to run until a drinks table, walk the drinks table and pray for a miracle. To my surprise the strategy worked and I found myself getting stronger and faster as the race progressed. With the carnage unfolding around me I buckled down and focussed, and was picking people off with relative ease and turned in the fastest 5km of the race to end the marathon. Although not my fastest marathon or even close to my target time, I really gained a lot of confidence that I could pick up the pieces when things went awry.
“Comrades here I come”, or so I thought! No sooner had I splashed out the $150 for the entry when I was struck down with self-diagnosed plantar fasciitis. So like most runners with an injury I went through the 5 stages of grief, with plenty of anger and despair before finally accepting that I would need time on the sidelines. With this I realised I needed to keep active or I’d probably strangle someone and I turned to the dark side and did the unthinkable…I turned to cycling!
I gave up running virtually all of November and targeted January to get back. I was pretty dedicated to stretching and icing (which is very unusual for me) and the injury responded so well I decided to have a go and sign up for 6ft. I was one of the umm, lucky ones to get a spot and was really excited as I was looking forward to hitting the trails of Mt-Cootha and BFP for the training.
So during a nice peaceful holiday down in Victoria with the foot having all but completely healed, I decided to start my campaign to glory on the 2nd of January…except that the temperature was well in excess of 40 degrees and my 11k run (without water???) turned into a survival drudge. Not the best start!
My second run was no less ill-fated when, a week later back in Brisbane, I hit the trails for a nice easy 15km only to attempt an abort when I underestimated the temperature and terrain and then promptly got lost. 18km later I made it back but I was starting to think the running gods had turned on me.
Never the less I carried on and things immediately started to look up. I completed 2 relatively uneventful weeks of training with a fair bit of it on the trails and was feeling like I was getting stronger. I had signed up for Mt Glorious which would be my first ever trail race but was a little perturbed when the website said “for seriously fit runners”…what the hell does “seriously fit” really mean? Then I looked at the course profile, YIKES! Never the less I was committed, so I attacked my training with even greater vigour. Another couple of weeks training, another extended run thanks to my wayward sense of direction and then I was at the starting line for Glorious!
A really enjoyable run, although the uphills proved to be a little tougher than I expected, but with a great finish to the race through the forest, all the hills were forgotten. Pulled up ok and with a time of 2:30 I was feeling like my training was on the right track.
The next month was all about hitting the trails and extending the distances past the 40km mark as I prepared for 6ft. Although I had heard the race was extremely tough I was confident that my training had me well prepared and I was targeting a sub 5hr finish (although I didn’t admit that to anyone else). January and Feb totals amounted to over 700km and then taper time was upon me.
Then the weather happened! Watching the rain, watching the river heights, checking the forecast and reading the forums; this is what my last two weeks entailed. Although the situation fluctuated between positive and negative outlooks, I was always secretly confident that 6ft would be held. With plane tickets and accommodation booked, I was ready to tackle my toughest race…then I got the email…cancelled! I was devastated, all that training and hard work and I was shattered, then I was angry, then I had a few drinks with a couple of mates who were just as devastated and I realised it wasn’t the end of the world. I made the decision to get back on the horse and to hammer the following week’s training as I was starting to loose enthusiasm after that set back.
Focus; that’s what was needed and I knew without something to aim towards between 6ft and comrades I was in serious danger of skipping training sessions, especially as the mornings got darker and colder. So I hit the net and signed up for another 3 races, cliff2cliff, pinnacles and Mt Mee.
Training up to Cliff2cliff was going well until the Monday before the race when I went out and did a nice tempo run on the back of a long run. This wasn’t a problem until the following day when my scheduled tempo run had me limping home with about 5km to go with a hip issue. I tried running the next day but same thing, started ok but within 5km I was struggling again. I decided to take the rest of the week off until the race. I had signed up to do the 50km option and although I could feel a bit of discomfort the whole way, it didn’t cause me to stop and the run turned out to be very enjoyable, although the wind on the way back made for some tough running conditions. A really low key fatass event which let me meet a bunch of likeminded people and one that I’ll be back to do in the future.
Pinnacles came and went without too much drama although the hip/groin kept me out of doing any speed work and causing me to take the occasional extra days off.
The last race before comrades was Mt Mee. I’d heard that it was tough and I decided to take it out slow. I ran the first 15km with a mate at a nice easy pace as I didn’t want to overdo it. After that I left him and picked up the pace a little and really got into a nice grove. Passing half way I caught up with a guy who had previously run coast to kosci and had a chat to him about running those serious distances. A thoroughly nice guy with plenty of good advice but unfortunately was having a bad day and so I left him before we got back to the checkpoint and from there I was running on my own until about 35km. This wasn’t too bad as the mountains and the clouds put on a spectacular show which was without doubt the highlight of the run. This was another TRAQ event and one of the best events I have run so far and will definitely be back next year (Just a quick thankyou to all the guys at TRAQ who put on these excellent events).
With the events done, all that was left was to go for the big one…the 65km training run. I had scheduled this run a week early as I did not want to have something go wrong and to miss out on doing it. The plan was to run up the back of Mt Cootha, do another full lap, head down to the city for a loop of the river and then back up and over Cootha one last time. With alarm set for 4am and kit ready to go I went to bed thinking about getting it over and done with. I was woken just before the alarm went off by the rain. It was pouring down. I stayed in bed until 4:30 hoping it would ease off at which time I got up and checked the weather radar. Wet and raining and no sign of abating. Decisions, decisions! Should I stay or should I go. I check the forecast which indicated rain until 9am...bugger that, I’m going. My (very understanding) wife was to meet me at 20km points along the route with supplies so that I could run without the backpack and so I decided to throw a change of shoes and clothing in the car so I could at least get dry once the rain had eased off. Well it stopped raining half an hour after I had completed my almost 6 hour, 63km run. I was soaked and cold and had it not being for the fact that I had no more +40km runs, I would probably not run again.
So that was it. A couple of 30s back to back the following weekend and then the part I hate most of all…TAPER!!
The journey began at the beginning of September 2011 when I decided to commit and sign up for comrades marathon 2012. I had been running for about a year and a half and had the grand total of one 50k, 2 marathons, 1 half and a hand full of 10ks to my name. “pffft”I thought, “I’ve already done a 50km, surely I can do another 39 on top of that!”
I was soon to do my third marathon in the blistering heat of Sydney but luckily I already had my comrades “B” qualifier from the Gold coast, as this turned out to be the toughest run I had done. While I started off in blistering fashion I missed a crucial water stop early on, followed by a half cup of water at the next table. The wheels started to fall off at about the 20km mark, fell off completely at about 25 and an explosion could be seen at 28km. A quick toilet stop, a couple of waters and the realisation that I had to get back to the opera house under my own volition got me back into the game and I started to run (albeit very slowly). The strategy was to run until a drinks table, walk the drinks table and pray for a miracle. To my surprise the strategy worked and I found myself getting stronger and faster as the race progressed. With the carnage unfolding around me I buckled down and focussed, and was picking people off with relative ease and turned in the fastest 5km of the race to end the marathon. Although not my fastest marathon or even close to my target time, I really gained a lot of confidence that I could pick up the pieces when things went awry.
“Comrades here I come”, or so I thought! No sooner had I splashed out the $150 for the entry when I was struck down with self-diagnosed plantar fasciitis. So like most runners with an injury I went through the 5 stages of grief, with plenty of anger and despair before finally accepting that I would need time on the sidelines. With this I realised I needed to keep active or I’d probably strangle someone and I turned to the dark side and did the unthinkable…I turned to cycling!
I gave up running virtually all of November and targeted January to get back. I was pretty dedicated to stretching and icing (which is very unusual for me) and the injury responded so well I decided to have a go and sign up for 6ft. I was one of the umm, lucky ones to get a spot and was really excited as I was looking forward to hitting the trails of Mt-Cootha and BFP for the training.
So during a nice peaceful holiday down in Victoria with the foot having all but completely healed, I decided to start my campaign to glory on the 2nd of January…except that the temperature was well in excess of 40 degrees and my 11k run (without water???) turned into a survival drudge. Not the best start!
My second run was no less ill-fated when, a week later back in Brisbane, I hit the trails for a nice easy 15km only to attempt an abort when I underestimated the temperature and terrain and then promptly got lost. 18km later I made it back but I was starting to think the running gods had turned on me.
Never the less I carried on and things immediately started to look up. I completed 2 relatively uneventful weeks of training with a fair bit of it on the trails and was feeling like I was getting stronger. I had signed up for Mt Glorious which would be my first ever trail race but was a little perturbed when the website said “for seriously fit runners”…what the hell does “seriously fit” really mean? Then I looked at the course profile, YIKES! Never the less I was committed, so I attacked my training with even greater vigour. Another couple of weeks training, another extended run thanks to my wayward sense of direction and then I was at the starting line for Glorious!
A really enjoyable run, although the uphills proved to be a little tougher than I expected, but with a great finish to the race through the forest, all the hills were forgotten. Pulled up ok and with a time of 2:30 I was feeling like my training was on the right track.
The next month was all about hitting the trails and extending the distances past the 40km mark as I prepared for 6ft. Although I had heard the race was extremely tough I was confident that my training had me well prepared and I was targeting a sub 5hr finish (although I didn’t admit that to anyone else). January and Feb totals amounted to over 700km and then taper time was upon me.
Then the weather happened! Watching the rain, watching the river heights, checking the forecast and reading the forums; this is what my last two weeks entailed. Although the situation fluctuated between positive and negative outlooks, I was always secretly confident that 6ft would be held. With plane tickets and accommodation booked, I was ready to tackle my toughest race…then I got the email…cancelled! I was devastated, all that training and hard work and I was shattered, then I was angry, then I had a few drinks with a couple of mates who were just as devastated and I realised it wasn’t the end of the world. I made the decision to get back on the horse and to hammer the following week’s training as I was starting to loose enthusiasm after that set back.
Focus; that’s what was needed and I knew without something to aim towards between 6ft and comrades I was in serious danger of skipping training sessions, especially as the mornings got darker and colder. So I hit the net and signed up for another 3 races, cliff2cliff, pinnacles and Mt Mee.
Training up to Cliff2cliff was going well until the Monday before the race when I went out and did a nice tempo run on the back of a long run. This wasn’t a problem until the following day when my scheduled tempo run had me limping home with about 5km to go with a hip issue. I tried running the next day but same thing, started ok but within 5km I was struggling again. I decided to take the rest of the week off until the race. I had signed up to do the 50km option and although I could feel a bit of discomfort the whole way, it didn’t cause me to stop and the run turned out to be very enjoyable, although the wind on the way back made for some tough running conditions. A really low key fatass event which let me meet a bunch of likeminded people and one that I’ll be back to do in the future.
Pinnacles came and went without too much drama although the hip/groin kept me out of doing any speed work and causing me to take the occasional extra days off.
The last race before comrades was Mt Mee. I’d heard that it was tough and I decided to take it out slow. I ran the first 15km with a mate at a nice easy pace as I didn’t want to overdo it. After that I left him and picked up the pace a little and really got into a nice grove. Passing half way I caught up with a guy who had previously run coast to kosci and had a chat to him about running those serious distances. A thoroughly nice guy with plenty of good advice but unfortunately was having a bad day and so I left him before we got back to the checkpoint and from there I was running on my own until about 35km. This wasn’t too bad as the mountains and the clouds put on a spectacular show which was without doubt the highlight of the run. This was another TRAQ event and one of the best events I have run so far and will definitely be back next year (Just a quick thankyou to all the guys at TRAQ who put on these excellent events).
With the events done, all that was left was to go for the big one…the 65km training run. I had scheduled this run a week early as I did not want to have something go wrong and to miss out on doing it. The plan was to run up the back of Mt Cootha, do another full lap, head down to the city for a loop of the river and then back up and over Cootha one last time. With alarm set for 4am and kit ready to go I went to bed thinking about getting it over and done with. I was woken just before the alarm went off by the rain. It was pouring down. I stayed in bed until 4:30 hoping it would ease off at which time I got up and checked the weather radar. Wet and raining and no sign of abating. Decisions, decisions! Should I stay or should I go. I check the forecast which indicated rain until 9am...bugger that, I’m going. My (very understanding) wife was to meet me at 20km points along the route with supplies so that I could run without the backpack and so I decided to throw a change of shoes and clothing in the car so I could at least get dry once the rain had eased off. Well it stopped raining half an hour after I had completed my almost 6 hour, 63km run. I was soaked and cold and had it not being for the fact that I had no more +40km runs, I would probably not run again.
So that was it. A couple of 30s back to back the following weekend and then the part I hate most of all…TAPER!!
