Roxy's Stud Muffins - the 100km Trailwalker Melbourne Ultra
by Greg Robinson, 26th March 2004It's only Pain and Suffering (Sean Greenhill)
Introspection is an interesting process. It's a combination of staring at your navel for a very long time, deciding if you are brave enough to face a challenge, and determining whether you are strong enough mentally and physically to commit. It's somehow like standing on the brink of a precipice, at the top of a mighty cliff, leaning slightly forward. The vertigo rushes into my mind; I reach a moment of panic, and lean backwards to an upright position breathing hard. I then rationalize that the challenge is too great, the asking price too high, the cost too much. But I must lean forward again to get another look over that precipice, not to leap, but just to see if I could do it, after all.
So with an invitation to join Roxy's Stud Muffins, a team of 3 others attempting to run the 100km Oxfam challenge, I stared long and hard at my navel. Introspection is all about thinking hard, while staring at your navel, and oh, picking out belly button lint. How did that get there?
Could I honestly run 100km? Or was I kidding myself? What about the pain and suffering? What about blisters? I oscillated between compulsion and horror. In the end I did what everyone should do; I bought a new pair of socks! I was committed. Everyone was convinced I would be fine, except that little voice in the back of my head called "doubt". It was so far that I wasn't even nervous.
Training
With only 3 weeks to race day, training was pretty easy. I had to rely on my training base to get me through. I'd run a fair few longish runs, and been training for Six Foot Track marathon and ran a leisurely Maroondah Dam trail run, but nothing more than about 4 hours on trails. I did have some hard long mountaineering days from a January trip to New Zealand behind me which could be beneficial. Those days had hurt a lot, and toughened my legs and my attitude and peeled about 7kgs from my already light frame. At least I didn't have to hump a pack and rope this time. Our Trailwalker estimates were for completing the course in 18.5 hours, so we started running the trail sections that we'd encounter on the race and I decided to stop worrying and start enjoying. It couldn't be that bad, could it?
Race Day
Race day came, and packing the van seemed a huge chore in itself. Four highly strung athletes and 2 support crew, gear bags, food, ski poles and warm clothes meant there wasn't much room in the van. Arriving at the race start, we registered and were prescribed colored wrist bands. I had hoped blue bands were back in fashion, or at least it would give me free beer at the end of the day. Neither was true. We were nervous, a little tense and snappy, and looked at other teams to see who else would be running. Not too many it appeared, though there were a few in fancy dress which brought a laugh. I had thought that my team was in it for the fun, but suddenly we became a little competitive. We vaselined everything to stop chafing, and (in my straightest face) I even conned my team mates to vaseline the top of their bum crack because it can chafe badly after 60km. Well, they fell for that one, and I didn't even smirk. There's nothing better than a practical joke to start the day, eh? The start was bizarre. There were already 180 teams who had started in the 9am wave, and the remaining 180 teams lined up at 11am like a 10km race start, counting down the race start clock. As the gun went off a few teams took off running, but why bother? We walked for 5 minutes, I snapped some photos, and as we started to feel embarrassed for some reason we finally started our run.
Roxy's Stud Muffins comprised a mixed bag of athletes. Stewart the dedicated short-course triathlete who had completed Trailwalker previously, was built like Mr. Muscle and looked like Chesty Bond; Roxy the lean, light and fast runner who was a power walker extraordinaire; Bruce, our captain, the mountain biking demon and finally old me with a triathlon background and a few trail ultras behind me. I was the only one wearing non-white colored socks, which secretly conveyed my knowledge of trail running to other athletes. I chuckled when I though about my team mates trying to return their socks to their original whiteness after this trail run. No product can do that. Would our team harmonics resonate a melody to get us through 100km? Or would we see some distortion creep in and ruin our fun? And what's a Stud Muffin? The last team I had joined was called The Chocolate Teapots, which made sense to me as I thought our team was about as useful as its name at times.
We ran past some weird teams in the first few kilometers. A team who ran ahead and left the fourth member behind all flustered and upset; another team ran about 2 kilometers in hiking boots to get ahead of the crowd only to then stop and rest. Roxy's Stud Muffin's had some competition for a few kilometers in an all male team in deep blue singlets who looked fit and keen and passed us early on. We ran on bike paths and dirt trails through suburban wetlands and bush parkland. We stuck to a system of slow and steady, all carried water and Gatorade, and quickly trotted behind Roxy who led at steady pace. Surges of speed from our lead runner would happen after passing other teams, but a quick rebuke from team mates eased our pace again. Roxy and her trio of stud muffins plodded on.
Start - CP 1: 10.5km 74 mins (10.5km, 74 mins cumulative)
The first leg had been dead flat and we trotted into the checkpoint after 74 minutes, only one minute ahead of our estimated time and 27th overall: not a bad start for a bunch of Stud Muffins. We were adjusting to our slow pace and had no idea where we were in terms of the 11am wave, as we hadn't seen another team for more than 30 mins. A banana and water bottle refill saw us out of the checkpoint in about sixty seconds, by far our fastest transition for the day.
CP1 - CP 2: 9.5km 68 mins (20km 2h27mins cumulative)
Our plan was to walk for 5-10 minutes maximum out of every checkpoint to force a rest on us and hopefully stave off fatigue. It was a good plan except we broke our rule immediately when we realized we would be walking up a steep hill soon after. The course took us onto the walking trails and fire tracks in Churchill National Park. Surprisingly, we came upon teams from the 9am wave, dawdling along, sometimes sitting by the side of the trail resting. "Are you the 9am wave or the 11am wave?" was commonly asked, and gave us a huge boost each time we replied "11am". Views from climb summits revealed a beautiful clear day, as we passed more and more teams. We were still expecting some other 11am wave teams to be ahead of us given our pedestrian speed. We eventually realized we were leading the 11am wave. Hurray! The adrenalin rush was great but we had to check the speed again as the pace subconsciously picked up.
CP2 - CP3: 15.5km 2h14mins (35.5km 4h41mins cumulative)
We found our support crew, and as we refueled and stretched near beautiful Lysterfield Lake, the "boys in blue" (singlets) arrived forcing us to scramble out of the checkpoint. It was probably a good thing. We were in 23rd place overall coming into the checkpoint. We ran on sandy undulating tracks, and far too quickly as we passed more and more teams who were walking. We ran the downhill, flat and slight rises and power walked the hills as best we could, usually far behind power-walker-extraordinaire Roxy. Many teams responded to my "hello" as we passed them, but we soon noticed that some teams didn't reply. They were obviously struggling in the heat and on the soft trail surface. We were heading towards Belgrave when Bruce mentioned he'd like to stretch at the next checkpoint. I advised him to stretch now, which he did. Soon his calf tightness became spasms and he was forced to stop, lie down and stretch. I pulled out some salt tablets, and gave him some hourly. He hobbled, walked, stretched, hobbled again, grimaced, and lay down. He was in huge pain, and it looked like an Alien was swimming around under his flesh where his calf should have been. It was kind of funny except for Bruce's painful grimace and the fact that the Stud Muffins were going nowhere. No one spoke. We happened to be beside a railway line, and were tempted catch a train the few stops to the next checkpoint, but decided to walk the 4 kilometers to the checkpoint, get Bruce a massage and then decide his (and our) fate. I started getting a little tense as I realized that the Stud Muffins may end up as a DNF. We called our support crew to tell them our sad news. Was our race already over? Would Bruce recover? Would I ever talk to Bruce again?
CP3 - CP4: 11.5km 1h47mins (47km 7h06mins cumulative)
Nina from our support crew walked a few kilometers down trail to meet us and we hobbled into CP3. Bruce went for a massage as the remaining 3 members ate, stretched, rested and fought off thieving hungry Kookaburra birds that dive-bombed our picnic table of food. I downed some creamed rice, pringles chips and pretzels, washed down by Gatorade (yum) and refilled my bottles. Forty minutes soon slipped by, and Bruce decided to continue by walking up the 1000 stairs and then see how things went from there. I kept feeding him salt tablets and kept hoping he would soon get it together. We plodded out and up the stairs into dense forest, and I got a call from a friend wishing me luck and an SMS from a friend in Canada telling me I was crazy. Soon I was inundated with SMS's from friends who had seen our progress updated online. "Only 80km to go" said one friend, but I knew it was only about 65km. Not much of a difference really.
Bruce Bruce Baby…
Roxy's Stud Muffin's power walked the steps and a few hills (surrounded by tall gum trees) in the beautiful Dandenong Ranges. The moment of truth came when it was flat enough to run again. We were surrounded by other 9am teams, and amazingly up came the "Boys in Blue" looking a little pale. Sparked by competitiveness or stupidity (not sure which), Bruce started to slowly run and immediately cramped up again. "That's it, it's over" he declared, and even Roxy wished him well as the remaining 3 Stud Muffins were resigned to continue on as a threesome. But somehow Bruce stared doom in the face, sucked up his courage and decided to continue. We ran a slow downhill section on road, then onto trail, then even some slight uphill. BRUCE WAS BACK! Amazingly he was holding it together and plodded on. We passed through the Sassafras township, crawled up the notorious Range Rd (probably the steepest section besides Mt. Donna Buang) and ran into the Olinda checkpoint feeling great and almost ahead of our optimistic schedule again.
CP4 - CP5: 10.5km 2h07mins (57.5km 9h14mins cumulative)
We quickly stopped to eat, picking up our headlamps and hoping like hell we would be able to get to the next checkpoint (which was the start of the wide and flat Warburton Trail) before darkness fell. My mind began to wander. We passed the golf course where we'd all seen a wombat chewing away only a few weeks ago, passed some viewpoints and a big downhill where our feet complained. Bruce learnt the old "walk down the hills facing backwards" trick from a fellow athlete and was impressed. We went over the only stile on the course, ambled into CP5 just on dark, cold, hungry and wanting to keep moving. We surprised our crew, as we were an hour ahead of our optimistic schedule. They were fully ready for us again.
CP5 - CP6 15.5km 2h10mins (73km 11h45mins cumulative)
The Warburton Trail is an old wide railway line and easy to run. The stars were bright and landscape full of country smells. Pity I couldn't see anything. I'd cycled along it with my kids before, and enjoyed its beauty. We soon slipped into a void, plodding along in the dark by headlamp and rarely speaking, running two by two. Bobbing headlamps ahead signaled teams to pass, and we slowly overtook them. But the leg seemed to stretch on forever and I faded to the back of our group, only to surge and rejoin. The mind games began as I struggled, yawned and tried to keep my running form. A late night SMS from Sean Greenhill told me "It's only pain and suffering" - how true I thought. Another SMS told me to "Hurry up or you'll miss the Thunderbirds on television at 6am", Sean again. I called my climbing buddy for inspiration, and he encouraged me to keep running. Was their another option? I just wanted this to be over. I decided it was time to switch from Gatorade to Coke and light the afterburners. I needed the energy NOW.
CP6 - CP7 14.5km 1h30mins (87.5km 13h40mins cumulative)
Gulping down Coke and creamed rice, I felt an immediate lift of energy and we quickly left the checkpoint into the freezing cold night. A chatty marshal told us the Gurkhas had been beaten, but he did not know by whom. Roxy's Stud Muffins slowly warmed up then lifted the pace significantly as we cruised into the next checkpoint way ahead of schedule, so much so that our poor support crew was caught napping.
CP7 - End 11.5km 3 hours (100km 16h59m46s cumulative)
We took our time refueling and waited for our ski poles which had inadvertently been left behind. A late night dash from my partner brought them to us and we set off again. This was the killer section. With almost 90km in the legs, we faced an 1100m climb to the summit of Mt. Donna Buang in the middle of the night, and the cold started creeping in to my fatigued body. I put on my microfleece and lycra beanie. We struggled with a lost trail and poor markings, and a befuddled brain that refused to work due to fatigue, but soon relocated the Warburton trail again and rejoined it. We walked the 3.5 km to the bottom of the climb since our legs refused to run after our long stop at the last checkpoint. We met our cheering support crew near the Golf Club for one last cheer before our climb. I slipped quickly into a mode of climbing familiar from my mountaineering. Heart rate pretty much maxed out, arms working hard with the ski poles and climbing with a fury that I used when I was pushing for another summit. I was ferociously determined, and felt great at working hard again. At least I was warm. My team mates fell behind quickly as I climbed past paddocks, but I was too wired to wait, too cold to stop and I just wanted to get the climb over and completed. I'm sure they felt the same. I passed some more teams, some hiking slowly up, but most sitting beside the trail resting as I powered on. Eventually I felt guilty and stopped and waited for the Stud Muffins. We soon saw flood lamps light the trail at a road crossing, and knew the steepest section of trail was behind us. It was tempting to stop for a hot drink, stand by the fire and rest, but the Stud Muffins got out of there for the final 3.5km of trail to the finish.
With less than a kilometer to the finish, we were slowly caught and then overtaken by another team for the first time in the race. Once ahead, they gave a jubilant "woohoo!", and probably thought that they had gained another place overall. The reality was that we were 2 hours ahead of them. We didn't care, nor could be bothered telling them about it, but all laughed about it later.
With our stopwatches coming close to 4am, we heard the power generators and saw the flood lights of the finish area through the dense fog and mist. Beads of moisture were forming on our clothes as we realized a sub 17 hour finish was possible, and the Stud Muffins picked up some speed towards the finish line in a final sprint. We startled one of our support crew, looking cold and tired snoozing against a wall at the finish as we dashed into the check in table where they recorded our finish time of 16 hours 59 minutes 46 seconds with 8th place overall.
We had done it!! We felt fantastic as we hugged each other. We were an hour an a half ahead of our optimistic estimate (of 18.5 hours) and 3 hours ahead of our realistic estimate (of 20 hours). Bruce had kept at it for almost 70km with cramps; a Herculean effort. Stewart looked pretty beaten up but smiled, but Roxy looked like she had just finished a 10km run instead of 100km. We were cold, wet and tired, but happy, laughing and smiling. There were lots of hugs from our support crew. Personally I felt great. I asked myself whether I could keep going, and the answer was a definite YES. We quickly changed, hiked down to the car and left the mountain.
And yes Sean, I did manage to watch the Thunderbirds on television that morning.
Lessons Learnt
This is a pretty cool race. I'll certainly try it again and loved the adventure with my team mates. Don't be daunted by the 100km distance, since it is run at such a leisurely speed with lots of stops and walks uphill. Nutrition and rest is as important as speed at this distance. Early slow pacing was essential, and our enforced 5 minutes walk out of each checkpoint helped with digestion and helped to minimize fatigue. Minimize time in all checkpoints, since longer breaks only make it harder to get going again. Run the course prior to the event to gain familiarity with the terrain and trail surfaces. Practice trail running at night, and use ski poles up the really steep trail like the Donna Buang climb. Most importantly, have fun.
