Monday, August 10, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
King of the Mountain - Mt Cootha 08.06.09
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Full race report 2009
Dave Scott, the event organiser transferred us to the start camp which was located on the grounds of the Ardbeg Distillery. The scenery was exactly as I had pictured: Rolling green hills joined to the ocean by rocky outcrops. Wooden whiskey barrels lined up next to whitewashed brick buildings. Stone walls lining the winding country laneways. The odd sheep and lamb scattered about. And the pink glow of the extended twilight that occurs in the high latitudes.
We were assigned to 2 man Vango tents which were set up on the "lawn" of the distillery grounds. Most of Islay is made up of Peat, which has a consistency halfway between mud and compacted vegetation. It is like a dense sponge of vegetable matter that holds lots of moisture. As our campsite was situated on the peat "lawn" the ground was wet and at night very, very cold.
I had arrived on Islay on Friday, before the Sunday race start, and as my tent-mate Andy Murray - a Doctor from Aberdeen - wasn't due until the next day, I had the tent all to myself. Like all of the runners, the kit that I was carrying was a compromise between weight and comfort. I was carrying the minimal amount of clothing and was using a lightweight 13 degree sleeping bag. I don't usually feel the cold, I rarely, if ever wear long pants, so I figured that if I "layered up" my clothing with a long thermal base layer and a couple of pairs of socks then I'd be toastie warm without too much weight.
That night I crashed for about 2 hours then woke with cold feet. I put on another pair of socks and another shirt but was still cold. Uncomfortably cold. After about 3 hours I had 3 pairs of socks, my base layer (top&bottom), waterproof pants, thermal top and my spray jacket inside the sleeping bag. My feet were like blocks of ice. Luckily I had my inflatable sleeping half-mat to insulate the cold tent floor otherwise I would have been a popsicle. I even stuck my feet inside my backpack. At 3.30am I gave up on the idea of sleeping and went into the distillery tea room and made myself a hot cuppa.
Saturday was registration day and all of the competitors arrived. Everyone checked and re-checked their kit, sorting what was necessary and what not. I think I repacked mine 6 times, each time shedding a few hundred grams of unnecessary gear. The pre-race briefing was held and we were we presented a "fly-over" 3D computer simulation of the intended (plan A) routes. Race safety co-ordinator Phil Briggs informed us that this year would be way tougher than last, and also to expect some inclement weather!
We had Haggis for dinner. I really needed to get some proper sleep so declined the offer of a dram of Ardbeg's finest and made my way to the tent. Fortunately Dave was kind enough to lend me a down sleeping bag which was much warmer. It weighed more but I was able to use this for the rest of the event. I was able to get about 3 hours sleep and then woke up, wide eyed. I then lay in the tent for a further few hours listening to the rain and wind until at 3am I surrendered to a cuppa in the tea room. Jet lag is a funny thing, the more you think about sleep the harder it is to get any. I also was quite anxious about the coming few days and had all sorts of scenarios running through my head. Probably not the most ideal way to start an ultra. I called Amanda while the sun came up and as usual, she was able to calm my nerves and made me feel much better.
As the sun rose, blue skies came with it. There was still a cool nip in the air but my mood began to improve as I put my race gear on and did one final kit check for the 8am start. At 7.56 I took my jacket off too stuff in my bag. I had forgotten that my camera was in the pocket and it fell out. The battery and the plastic cover exploded off it. I put it back together but it wouldn't work. Frustrated I had to tell myself that this likely wasn't going to be the worst thing to happen to me over the next few days so I had better look on the bright side.
8am and we were off, you could smell the emotion in the air. My race plan was to keep to myself, go my own pace even if it meant walking. Surprisingly I felt great. Perfectly fit. I ran confidently for the first 5km and met Gordon Napier the event camera man. I passed him my camera and asked if he may be able to have a look at it, all but resigning myself to not having a personal record of the event. The route of Ardtalla was a fairly flat, mostly bitumen coastal road that passed by a colony of a half dozen or so seals as well as a family of otters. I was at 10km checkpoint within the hour and found myself in 10th position. I was feeling well in the "zone"
The route then turned inland leading up onto the summit ridge of Bheinn Bheiger. From sea level we would climb to it's peak at 2500??? feet, all within a couple of kilometres. It was here that I discovered 2 things that would play a dominant role for the entire event; peat bog and tussock grass. To understand tussock grass, imagine running through a pineapple plantation (without the spikes). Each tussock has a round head with long fibrous tufty grass hair. If you are experienced then you can run on top of the tussocks, but if you misjudge one they can be an ankle breaker. Some are a couple of feet tall and when you accompany them with the soft boggy ground, the terrain is tough.
Quickly my shoes became waterlogged and I'd had my first slipover. I could see the marker flags leading up to the summit and was quite happy to allow the 4 Welsh Fireman Sams to blaze the right (and wrong) path. It took nearly an hour to reach the summit flag, were I managed to take a quick drink and took an unflattering photo of myself on the camera phone. I also received a really motivating text message from Amanda. From here you could see across to the Isle of Jura and clearly view the entire Paps, the bald mountains. I thought to myself that I'd be there in a couple of days to experience them close up. I then made my way across the mountain spine to the next marker flag, negotiating scree (loose rock) fields. The descent was much more difficult than anticipated and it took me a while to become use to the peat as it's slipperier than I thought, I spent more time on my backside that on my feet. Passing a couple of lochs and across a few burns (creeks) I finally reached a soggy vehicle track that passed through farmland. I ran with Graeme for the next while, passing though cattle gates and grids. The cattle were totally indifferent to our passing, as were the pink pigs who had a striking resemblance to Winston Churchill. It seemed to take quite a while to reach the next checkpoint and both of us were surprised to hear that we had gone only 21km. It had taken over 3 hours.
Phil mentioned that the next checkpoint was "down the road and turn right". Murray had joined us and we continued down the road, running down the hills and flats and easing off on the way up. The road disappeared up a hill in the distance and when we reach the top, it disappeared of into the distance again. We finally reached the turnoff were Gordon was waiting. He did a quick video blurb and then presented me with my fully functioning camera. He had pulled it apart and with a stroke of genius, reattached the broken battery contacts. Buoyed by the good news, I set off with Murray to the next check point. Murray is American and I'm Australian. We both obviously have issues translating Scottish to English. We were told to "go down the road and left through the gate". So we went down the road, found a gate on the left and went through it. We ended up in a sheep paddock. What we should have done was go down the road. Then gone through the gate. Then turned left. We I spent half an hour walking in circles around the sheep paddock. Murray isn't a very big bloke but I could tell that he was about to detonate. We finally sorted out the correct route . My shoes had dried out on the road stage but were now wet and covered in sheep turd, so decided that I would walk the remaining 7km into the nights camp at Bunnahabein Distillery. Feeling sore but content after 7.5 hours on the road, I woofed down a boil-in-the-bag chicken tikka and set myself up for the night. It quickly got cold and windy, then it rained and rained and rained and would continue to rain for the next 4 days.
Again I hardly slept. This time I think it was the wind. I put on my running kit and went out of the tent for the usual morning wee. Bloody hell, it was cold. My clothes were damp and the sleepless nights were catching up with me. I've never had a migraine but this may have been close. I put on all the day clothing that I had. Dave & Phil briefed us that weather was to be horrible for the whole day. Wet. Wind. Cold. The route would take us straight into the glens and mountains of northern Islay before following a rugged coastal route onto the lengthy and windswept beaches of Loch Gruinart. We were told to stay on the highside of the burns as the rain was quickly filling them.
At 8am we started and immediately we hit soggy ground. I managed a trot for the first kilometre or so but then the ground became to boggy. The rain was near horizontal and visibility was down to less than 100 metres. I travelled with Mark, a young guy from the RAF until we misjudged the line of the route and detoured for 500m or so. Finding the correct route we met Aaron, Jo, Graeme and Justin. It was hard, satisfying work but the six of us navigated through the freezing rain and sleet, across the bogs and tussock to the first checkpoint. At the checkpoint, course medic Al directed us in a straight line where we should meet a "waterlogged track". How we were meant to define "waterlogged" when everything in sight was waterlogged was beyond us all. We stayed on the highside of the burns, crossing some that were knee deep and others that required a 10m climb into and out of. Every now and then I seemed to be able to find "cracks" in the bog, some waiste deep with water. I was wet through. None of my clothing was dry and the wind was picking up. We found the track and went past some old stone ruins that could have been 100 or 1000 years old. This led to the beach and I was starting to fatigue from the cold. I couldn't feel my toes and my fingers and I was suffering a headache like I've never experienced. The beach was long and flat and comparatively easy compared with the bogs. I think that I had eased off and my body temperature was dropping.
It was a requirement for all competitors in the Scottish Ultra to carry mandatory safety items as part of their kit. Things like a headlamp, first aid kit, compass, mirror, survival blanket, whistle and waterproof top and trouser. I packed everything needed, placing emphasis on the first aid kit and torch, but to be honest, I didn't think too much about the waterproofs. I've never needed to wear them before so I just bought a $20 pair of cheap plastic trousers and took along a Spray jacket that I got for free about 10 years ago. I should have done a bit more research. The trousers were made of umbrella type material and the jacket leaked like a sieve. I was wearing summer running gear underneath and the wind cut through the waterproofs like they weren't there. I was like a human shaped evaporative cooler. I started to shake uncontrollably and my muscles began to stiffen up. At one point I tried to run but only got 100m or so. I was on the long exposed beach section and the rain was horizontal. There was no shelter and I was mentally starting to crash. "Why the hell was I here?" I fell away from the others and by halfway up the beach I was couple of hundred metres behind. Then out of nowhere a bloke in a bicycle helmet with a video camera appeared and started filming me. I couldn't understand what this joker was on about and gave him a confused "bugger off mate" response. I later found out that he was filming for the local news and this footage appeared on the website. I made the checkpoint on the beach and took directions from Gordon who tried his best to motivate me. My right knee was quite stiff. I made the next km across the soft wet sand and up the dune. I had a dry emergency shirt and running leggings that I could change into if only I could find some shelter and the rain would stop. It didn’t stop and the next 7km was through exposed farm land. Not a tree in site. I'd pretty much made up my mind to retire and the next medic point. 1km before the checkpoint, I ran into Niall in his car. Niall is a Islay local, and what he doesn't know isn't worth knowing. Fireman, Air Traffic Controller, rescue heroe, all round good bloke. He asked me how I was, and I told him that I was shagged. I was shaking uncontrollably, teeth chattering. I asked if the rest of the route was on the roads and he said that it went back up in the hills through the bog and tussock and it was very wet. I mumbled again that I was shagged and I could feel that I was emotionally spent. The decision was up to me but I couldn't go on. I got no argument from Niall, I think I expected him to try to talk me round but he could see I'd better get warm in a big hurry. I put my hands on my knees and could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. One of the local deer hunters passed by in his Landrover and gave me a lift to Port Askaig. He put his heater fan on full, but being a landrover it didn't work and just seemed to blow cold air on me. The car was full of ammunition that rolled around his dashboard and floor. The shaking from the cold got worse and I ached all over. I was disappointed with myself, felt like I'd let everyone down. I felt like I needed to cry. I just wanted to get the first plane out of there and leave it all behind.
I found Phil at the Port Askaig hotel and at this stage I was shaking so much I couldn't stand up. The little pub was full of patrons and he led me to the toilet to change into my dry gear. There I was, completely naked next to the urinal of the Port Askaig hotel, shaking like a madman. One of the locals came in to do his business. He glanced at me as I was balancing on one leg trying to put my thermal underpants on. I said "G'day mate, how's it going?" He just shrugged his shoulders and walked out.
I went across the ferry where Dave had the use of one of the locals houses. It took nearly 4 hours for me to warm up enough to stop shaking. I rang Amanda
and told her what happened fighting back the tears. I wanted to get the first flight home, but fortunately she talked me out of it and convinced me to stay on as part of the support crew, an experience I was glad to be part of.
By the next morning there had been 5 retirements from the race. I watched as the runners start day 3 with a fair bit of sadness. Half an hour later, the weather turned again horrible, probably worse than the day before. I was able to help out with the camp and at some of the checkpoints over the next 3 days. I was out of the race but I was having a great time and I felt that I had a productive input with the other competitors and support team. For the next two nights we had a communal camp in an old concrete floor cow barn. The temperature got colder and the rain worse. There were more retirements. Eventually the event was shortened to 5 days from 6 because the weather was so bad. Full credit to Dave, Phil and the support team who had to redesign the route "on the fly" so that it was safe.
I watched the surviving runners finish at the Isle of Jura distillery and we all celebrated with a few (too many) drams and venison stew. We caught the ferry to the mainland the next day and Andy offered me a lift into Glasgow, passing by Lock Lomond and forested glens.
I will definitely attempt another ultra. (I've already had a run today!) The experience was amazing. I have learnt so much from this week, and next time I will be much better prepared.
A big thank you to everone has has supported me.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Update
Photos & stuff to come in the next few days.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Stage Two - Monday 4th May
Stage One - Sunday 3rd May
Finished stage one which was 44km section. I was able to run 10km of it up and over a 3500ft mountain then I walked the remainder. My feet and heal are very sore but suviving. Did get lost in a sheep paddock with an American guy but we managed to find our way out. The scemery is amazing. I even saw some seals.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
In Glasgow
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Isle of Jura Blog
This following is taken from the Isle of Jura Blog website:
http://www.jurainfo.com/blog/news/scottish-ultra-marathon-to-return-to-islayjura/Scottish Ultra Marathon to return to Islay/Jura
April 10th, 2009
Niall Colthart of Port Ellen has finalised the route for Scotland’s toughest race which will take place over six days from May 3rd this year starting at Ardbeg distillery. Around 50 competitors are expected and a part of each runners entry fee will be going to Islay and Jura Sick Children’s Fund. Niall: ‘We also have a guy from Australia competing who is asking people not to sponsor him with monetary contributions but by donating blood - which is at a premium in Australia after the bush fires. All of us in the organising team have done this.’
The event attracts some truly tough nuts. One girl who came last year is planning to swim to the start line from the mainland while another guy is competing having lost a leg in the Falklands conflict. He is now the High Constable of Perth. Niall says that the organisers are keen to see some local athletes competing. He says: ‘It is possible to do the route without actually running. Each stage can be completed at walking pace - and at least one competitor did exactly that last year. This is where the event differs from the likes of the fells race with its timed cut off stages. It is however being tipped as the toughest multi-day event in the UK.’ Competitors carry everything with them as they run, including all food and a tent, camping in makeshift villages overnight. The only thing supplied at support stations is water.
The RouteDay 1 - Sunday 3rd May: Ardbeg to Bunnahabhain via Claggain bay, Beinn Vicar, Kynagarry and Balulive above Finlaggan.Day 2: Bunnahabhain to Feolin via Rhuval. Killinallan, Craigens and West Carrabus. Then Knockdonn, Loch Skerrols, Scarrabus, Balole, Loch Finlaggan and down to Port Askaig to camp across at Feolin on Jura.Day 3: Feolin to Glenbattrick via Inver through the Paps, Knockrome, Evans Walk to Loch Tarbert at Glenbattrick.Day 4 (the shortest but toughest!!) Glenbattrick to Rhuantailain along the shores of Loch TarbertDay 5: Rhuantailain to Tarbert Standing Stone via raised and shiant beaches to Corpach and then following the corpach river up to the watershed and then decending down to the road over five miles of tussock grass and bog north of Tarbert.Day 6: The runners run down from Tarbert on the road to finish in the filling store at Jura Distillery for a well earned dram.
Niall is also appealing for volunteers to marshall some of the sections saying: ‘We hope to grow this event in the future to add another date to the island calendar and bring people to Islay and Jura in particular who might not otherwise have come.’
for more info visit the website www.scottishultra.com
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
“Control the controllable and manage the uncontrollable!”
Monday, April 6, 2009
Wet Shoes and a Dodgy Pakistani Shirt
I had used the HM to test some of my gear which I had hoped to take to Scotland. Firstly the new Merrel shoes that I have been using hurt my feet and I managed to get small blood blisters on both big toes, They also seemed to retain heaps of moisture. I'm not sure whether it is the Gore-Tex that stops them draining. I have decided to stick with my trusty Salomon Wings.
I bought a shirt on Ebay. It is a CoolMax type cycling shirt with the pockets at the back. I thought that this type of shirt would offer sun protection, give my a bit of extra storage and most of all not give me any rash/abrasion issues. I was wrong.The shirt was made in Pakistan. I think they used a combination of sand paper, barbed wire and asbestos to sew the underarm panels. Suffice to say that I couldn't use underarm deoderant this morning.........
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wild Horse Mountain Night Run 28/03/2009
All runners started together with the "wake up call": a 750metre climb to the top of the mountain, up the stairs around the lookout and back down the steep gradient to where the track started proper. The view of the sunset over the Glasshouse Mountains was fantastic, I wish I had taken a photo. Immediately I felt my shin start to twang but strangely enough after 200 metres or so I must have got the blood flowing and it eased off. That was the last time I felt it for the rest of the night. I think I may have been helped along by the mosquitos. Most of the competitors lost a pint or two to the little blood suckers before the start.
NOTE FOR NEXT YEAR - Bring Insect Repellent!
On the way down from the lookout I met up with Alun and we had a great chat for the next 7 or so kms. I must be getting a bit fitter as I usually aren't able to create conversation when I run but Alun was kind enough to cut back his pace a bit while we talked.
We passed CP10 for the first time and I was quite pleased to see that I was keeping pace with a group of 5 or 6 runners which is quite foreign to me as I usually end up running alone near the back of the pack. At about the 10km mark the group started to spread out and for the rest of the night I stayed stuck between a headlamped runner about 500m ahead and another about 500m behind. There was no moon at all so it was particularly dark. About 13km in, I noticed the headlamp in front of me turn around and start coming back towards me, then the call of "SNAKE!". It was only a Python, about 5-6 feet who had decided that the gravel road was a nice warm place to curl up and have a nap, only to be interrupted by our Headlamps. I relayed the call to the runner behind and continued on, dodging the occasional cane toad and ingesting scores of bugs that seemed to have a fatal attraction with my lamp.
I made a conscious effort to take note of my electrolyte/fuel intake. I drank some Hammer HEED at the 10km mark and I think? that I noticed a boost in the way I felt by the time I passed through CP10 a second time. Feeling way better than expected I decided that this was the point of no return and committed to the 30km. This loops around the "Lowlands" or wetlands to the East, almost reaching the Pumicestone Passage's mangrove swamps. Running alone in the dark, I imagined that freaky scene from the movie "Deliverance", humming the banjo theme Do Do dee Do de do de do dum......... - you have to have a good imagination to do distance running.
Turning back towards the highway we had a few long straight stretches, curtained on either side by the pine trees. The cloud seemed to clear by this stage and I even turned off my light to enjoy the view of the stars. (Earth Hour). It was so dark. I turned my light back on after a minute or so as I slammed by foot sideways into a washout. The false horizons on the straight stretches from 10B & 10C were a little misleading and it was at this point I contemplated the pros/cons of buying a Garmen or at least a compass so I could work out what straight stretch I was on.
Thinking that I was on the home stretch as I passed 10B I was starting to fatigue, I lost concentration on a sandy part of the junction, burying one foot into the ground. This produced a very slow, long, clumsy stumble which appeared to take about 10 seconds and 10 steps to complete. Twisting and turning I eventually ended up on my back after a half somersault in a pike position. Luckily I came away unscathed apart from being entirely covered in sand. - including my mobile phone and back pack. Most of this sand ended up on the black leather seats of my wifes car on the trip home. I thank my lucky stars that I had the spill in the sand as 10 yards on either side was hard gravel road.
Composing myself with a bit of a walk and a drink, I jogged past CP10 for the last time feeling tired but content. I think I was running with Geoff at this stage who mentioned he was hurting but he still managed to catch me. With a failing lamp and tired eyes, I once again stumbled after slipping a foot underneath one of the many fallen branches on the second passing of the twisty trail towards the river crossing. It started to rain as I passed a couple of ladies from the 20km course just before the river crossing. I thought how pleasant it was to wash the mud and dust off my shoes through the river only to be confronted with a foot deep clay mud bog 50 metres later. - so much for clean shoes!
By this stage my lamp batteries were on their last legs. Geoff took off past me after having a a salt tablet and a second wind, but as this section is made up of jagged rocks I erred on the side of caution, preferring to slowly plod in to the finish rather than twist an ankle or have another fall.
I came into the finish tent in 2 hrs 51 min. I think it was 27 or 28km total distance.
Thanks to all who organized the event. It was great to run in the dark for a change.!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Shin Splints and other assorted stuff.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Half Marathon 01 March, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Bunyaville 6km Trail Run 14 Feb 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Post No. 1 - Welcome!
I finally got round to adding this blog page to my website. http://www.racer.com.au/
As some of you already know, I will be competing in the Scottish Ultra Marathon in May this year. I will be using my entry to promote awareness for the Australian Red Cross Blood Service.
The Scottish Ultra is a 140 mile, 6 day foot race and through this I am raising awareness for the importance of blood donations through the Red Cross.
Please take a look at my website: http://www.racer.com.au
If you are able, please consider donating blood.
I would be happy for you to pass my website on to anyone that you think might be interested.